And This Is When He Breaks The Rules
by Laura x Tennant
Summary: It's time. The Doctor gives in. Set after my other two stories: 'Far, far too late to stop loving you' and 'She Is His Universe.'
1. He Likes To Taste Things

**And This Is When He Breaks The Rules**

**Chapter 1 – He Likes To Taste Things**

"It is nothing," snaps Queen Victoria, pulling her hand away from the Doctor.

He stares at her, disbelieving, but then shrugs and calls over Her Majesty's shoulder to Rose.

"Right, better be off. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine...but incase you hadn't noticed, it's still night out there," she comments, pointing up, "And we'll never find our way back to the TA - "she pauses, "Back to where we came from in the dark," she corrects herself, remembering who they are in the company of.

"You shall stay here, then, it is settled," commands the Queen.

"Er...right, yes of course. Where should we..." he trails off. With the poor Sir Robert dead, who would be in charge of the household? They'd have to find the wife. "Rose, do you know where Lady..."

"Isobel? I'll go find her," Rose supplied.

"Ta. Right, your Majesty, if you go with Rose, and she'll escort you to your bedchamber, and I'll clear this room up a bit."

"Yeah, sorry about that, we often make a mess," Rose apologised as she guided the Queen out of the doorway.

"Very well," replied Queen Victoria, "But be quick about it, the pair of you should get some rest too."

***

The Doctor looked up as Rose re-entered the room. He was sitting on the floor; his glasses perched on the end of his nose, examining a piece of wood.

"Clever old sod, was Sir Robert's father. Mistletoe in the _wood. _Brilliant! You humans are rather good, you know," he commented lightly.

Rose smiled. "Yep. I know. And you know what, so are you."

He grinned up at her, and she sat down beside him.

"You were gone a long time," the Doctor said quietly. He really shouldn't, but he was so used to having Rose around that he felt bereft without her nearby. Especially after the sort of adventure they'd had today, full of danger and death. He loved this life, and he knew she did too, but it didn't stop him worrying that one day he would lose her and it would be all his fault...

"I was talking to Lady Isobel."

"Women," he muttered.

"She needed comforting. She just lost her husband, remember? So I could hardly just say to her: 'Hi, just wondering where me and the Doctor could crash for the night?' could I?" said Rose, shaking her head at his insensitivity.

Ah. You see? He forgets these things when she is with him. Or not, as the case may be.

"Suppose not, no. Sorry. Well?"

"I stayed with her a bit, then went and found Flora – one of the servant girls – and she's with her now. She told me we could sleep in the third room from the top of the stairs, as that wasn't badly damaged by the werewolf's, er...rampage."

"Right. Ha, werewolf, eh? Whatever next."

"Weelll, let's see, we've had ghosts and zombies and now a werewolf. Oh I know! Vampires?" said Rose, smiling her teasing smile, tongue poking out the side of her mouth. He wishes she wouldn't do that. It distracts him.

"Ooh no. No, no, nonono. No fear. Don't want that," said the Doctor.

She laughed, and made to stand up, but the Doctor jumped up quicker, and held out his hand.

"Shall we retire to the bed chamber, Miss Rose Tyler?"

Rose raised an eyebrow.

"When I said 'we,' I kinda thought it would just be me, seeing as 'Time Lords don't sleep,' she replied, laughing.

The Doctor looked wounded for an instant, and then quickly said, "Yes. That's true. But then I'll be lonely, just sitting around all night looking at this - " he paused, and licked the piece of wood he held in his hand, "- rather un-tasty wood." He shudders.

Rose looked up at him quizzically, "Why do you feel the need to lick things all the time? You have such an oral fixation this time around."

"I...I don't know. It's fun," he considered, as she put her hand in his and he pulled her up to her feet.

"But you lick strange stuff. Stuff you don't even know what it is."

"Exactly. That's how I _tell_ what it is."

"Ahhh. So that's why you've licked blood, on the Sycorax ship, and that rock thingy from Aleu 8, and that plumgrass from the planet Milota... ooh and that icicle from the beach on Uio -_," _she teased, and he gave her a protesting look, "- but you haven't licked me, 'cos you _know _what I am," she added.

She just stood there, looking at him, her hand still in his, and said that, and he just couldn't resist. He brought his arm up, and licked her hand. Slowly.

"What the - " Did she just imagine that? Did he just _lick_ her _hand?_

Did he just do that? He thinks. Did he just _lick_ her _hand? _

Oh well. Play the fool.

He smiled mischievously, and said the first thing he could think of, "Hmmm. You taste nice." Which, on reflection, was probably not a great thing to say to the woman he...well, you know. Liked.

But Rose just smiled.

"You're _such_ a weirdo," she commented, as they walked out of the room. But she didn't let go of his hand; in fact, she swung their joined hands between them happily, contemplating that the Doctor really was full of surprises...

_To be continued..._

**A/N: Hello, just wanted to quickly say: reviews will be LOVED. Any comments or criticisms are greatly appreciated, please press the button and let me know. Thanks :D Hope you enjoyed chapter 1 x**


	2. One Tiny Bed

**Chapter 2 – One Tiny Bed**

They found the room they'd been given, and Rose quickly realised it must have been the smallest in the entire house. The bed was barely more than the width of her single bed on the TARDIS. And the Doctor plopped himself right down in the middle of it.

Rose nodded her head towards the chair in the corner, and asked, "As you're not _actually _going to sleep tonight, shouldn't you be a gentleman and sit in the chair, and let me have the bed?"

"As if you're going to be able to sleep, either. You're still buzzing from the thrill of adventure, and you'll be chatting away at me for the remainder of the night, and I'll be all the way over there- " he paused as he realised the chair was only about two feet away from the bed, but concluded that that was indeed far too far away, so he resumed his comment, "- all uncomfortable."

Rose sighed and made to sit down in the chair, but before she could, the Doctor said, "What are you doing? That doesn't resolve the problem. Now _you'll_ be uncomfortable, and still too far away from me. Come here."

Rose's eyebrows shot up to her hairline in shock at what he's just said. Another surprise. But she decided to play the game. She knew he wouldn't see anything wrong in them lying together on the same bed. They were just friends, after all. So she shouldn't make a big deal out of it.

"Well, budge up then," she said, and the Doctor scooted over a bit, while she couldn't resist adding suggestively, "How close do you want us to be, exactly?" She lay down, a few inches away from the front of his body, facing away from him.

"Welll..." he drew out the word, pretending to be thinking. He dropped his voice an octave – unintentionally, of course - "How about this?"

And with that, he pulled her snug against him, the back of her head resting on his chest, her lower back pressed against his crotch, his arms wrapped around her waist tightly. She was too shocked to say anything in response. She placed her hands over his, which were resting lightly on her stomach. And...it was quite nice.

"Doctor," she whispered, "You know we're in Victorian times, right? The most prudish, repressed time there's ever been in England?"

He quite liked this. This felt right. He mentally shook himself. What was he doing? He's worked so hard to keep his distance, and now he was pressed up against her in the most...wonderful way...during a period of British history that they could be chastised for doing this in. Since when did he lose his self-control? Oh what the hell. Maybe if he allowed himself this, he'd be fine. He wouldn't do anything else. They were friends. They could do this. So, in for a penny...

"Hmmm. And?" he replies, belatedly, after thinking long and hard about how he should respond.

"And...I don't reckon Queen Victoria would be _remotely_ amused to find you...my er _guardian _–or whatever she thinks you are - sort of..._spooning_ me, a... a -" she said...did she really just say '_spooning'? _Oh god. She'd done it now. He was going to pull away. And she didn't want that, not really. She was just asking him these things to provide him with an easy get-out-clause, so that she could be spared the embarrassment of him pulling away from her later on, on his terms.

" – a timorous beastie?" he interrupted, adopting his Scottish accent, which made her feel rather dizzy. She struggled to speak. He reminded himself to be careful. To not let this get too far.

"Rigghht. I was gonna say _young girl_ but whatever floats your boat. Anyway...what if someone came in? It may be seen as improper. And un-amusing," she added. She strokes his hands as she speaks.

The Doctor didn't want to move from their snug position, despite knowing he should use her point to do so. But...they hugged all the time, he thought, and this was just an...extension of that. This didn't mean anything.

So, he decided not to answer her question properly. Instead, he said, "Everyone's asleep. By the way, you'll never get her to say it, you know. That ten quid is _mine." _He rested his chin on the top of her head. Her hair tickled his nose, but he didn't care. He subtly breathed in the scent of her; slight sweat from all the running, but he could still make out the smell of her shampoo. Strawberries. He loved holding her like this. This was nice.

Rose was kind of disappointed that the Scottish accent had disappeared, and she was also rather confused, as she was convinced that this...cuddling was far too intimate for their 'just friends' relationship. But in actual fact she was very glad he didn't really respond to her previous queries about their close proximity, nor did he deny the fact that he was _spooning _her, so she decided to play it safe and respond to his topic shift, rather than give him any more chances to let him pull away from her.

"Oh yeah? Just you watch me. Come dawn, before we leave, I bet you a further _twenty_ that I'll get her to say it. And I tell you what, if I don't, I'll also cook you your favourite breakfast." Although she couldn't see his face, she knew how he would react to this...

The Doctor's expression changed from contented smile at their current position, to one of abject horror.

"In that case, um...I'd rather lose. No offence, Rose, but you're not that good -"

She knew it!

"- Oi! Anyway, you can relax. I know what you like. I'll just make you a cuppa and give you a jar of marmalade and a banana and you'll be happy."

At the sudden mention of a banana, the Doctor suddenly loosened his grasp on Rose, and reached one of his hands down in between them to find his jacket pocket. After a bit of rummaging, he found what he was looking for.

"Ta-dah! You must be hungry, you haven't eaten for a while. Do you want this?" He brandished a certain yellow fruit in front of her face.

"Oh, I thought I felt something poking me in the back," she giggled, and paused, to see if he was going to react to her innuendo. When she felt him simply push his body closer into hers, she thought it best to carry on, "You carried that in your pocket? Cor, you really do like bananas, don't you?"

"I always come prepared," he whispered in her ear, and her hair tickled his face again, "You'd be surprised the sort of stuff I've been able to fit in my pocket..." he trails off, as she twists in his arms, placing her hands on his chest, one hand over each heart, moving her head to look up at him. He was peering down at her through the glasses that he had evidently forgotten to remove. He looked rather sexy like this, she thought, his hair all ruffled, sexy specs on, a gentle smile on his face...She just wished he would lean his head down just a bit and _kiss_ her.

He waved the banana around in his raised hand, his other now pressing into her lower back, keeping her flush against him. He grinned.

"So, do you wanna bite or not?"

"Oh yes," she said, a bit too shakily, and huskily, she thought, to be talking about a banana. But then, she was really hungry. She took it from his hand and began to peel it, the pair of them still pressed together into their hug, and he watched her in what seemed like utter fascination.

She bit down into it, and didn't fail to notice the Doctor lick his lips. This was different, she pondered. It was almost as if he...no. No. He was just playing around. This was still well within the boundaries of friendship. Wasn't it? Or maybe...

"Do you wanna bit, too?" she asked innocently.

Oh dear.

The Doctor cleared his sudden, rather alluring thoughts from his mind with a shake of his head, so that he could reply to her coherently.

"Nah, it's fine. You enjoy it," he replied. Since when did he feel this fascinated about watching Rose eat, he wondered?

"Thanks. It does taste nice," she says, and she thinks about earlier, when the Doctor licked her hand.

"Good." He watches her, thinking about earlier, when he licked her hand. He wonders what she would do if he kissed her right now. He knew he wouldn't do it. But if he did? It was dangerous territory, the way they were laying right now. He might lose his well-preserved control for good. But would that be a bad thing? Really?

Rose was captivating, and he couldn't help but fall in love with her a little bit more each moment they spent together. It was just a matter of time.

"Doctor...?"

"Yes, Rose?"

"Why did you lick my hand, earlier on?"

Oh dear.

It was like she was deliberately luring him in. He knew she was simply confused. She must be completely mystified as to why he was holding her so close, stroking her back lightly, watching her eat the banana so intently, without so much as an explanation or invitation.

He was crumbling, but she didn't know it.

"Because I...wanted to?" he tried.

"Huh?"

"Weeellll, like you said, this regeneration, I've been far more prone to taste things, to figure out what they are made from or what they contain - the wood, for example. But I also lick things for the sheer pleasure of it - like bananas, for instance -" he amended, pausing in his explanation to lick the banana she held in her hand, revelling in the way her eyes opened wide and she swallowed thickly, " - and I hadn't licked you as yet, as you so delightfully pointed out. So, despite knowing what you are, I didn't know how you tasted. But I thought it would be quite nice. So..."

He wondered if he had gone too far. He knew he had. But he also suspected she wouldn't mind.

"You licked my hand," Rose finished, wondering why she had this strange, pleasant feeling inside of her at the way he was expressing such an interest in wanting to taste her. Oh, that's right, she realised. She liked him saying that because she wanted him to taste her, too. Oh _god, _why was he doing this to her? Surely he knew it was driving her crazy? Being _so _close to him, and yet so far, far away from being able to show him how much she loved him.

"Yes. I did. And I was right."

She ate the last of her banana with a gulp, and threw the skin behind her. She licked her lips, and he had to restrain himself from helping her.

"Tut tut. You litter bug, you!" he admonished light-heartedly, saying anything to simply occupy his mouth.

"I'll clear it up in the morning."

They were just lying there now, on their sides, facing one another, their separate pairs of lips no more than a few inches away from each other... and oh, how he _really _wanted to taste her again, except this time, banana and Rose mixed together. He had this feeling that it would be nothing short of heavenly.

Rose hated the way he was so unaffected by this. There was her, practically holding her breath, a nervous energy pulsing through her body, her heart beating erratically at the way he was looking at her, the hairs on her arms and neck standing up at the way he was drawing strange patterns on her back. And there was him, just lying there, watching her getting all flustered, not in the least bit suggesting he was uncomfortable with, or even aware of, what they were doing. Now would be the perfect moment to bring out that sprig of mistletoe she had tied to the inside buckle of her dungaree skirt, and shock him with a request, to at least provoke a reaction out of him. Anything but this, slow, slow torture.

He wants to kiss her. But he knows he shouldn't. Because of the Reasons, ordered in a list somewhere inside his brain. Trouble was, with her looking at him like that, with her reacting to his touch in this way...his superior Time Lord senses were completely swamped with everything that is Rose; smell, sight, sound, touch, _taste_. He was barely keeping control of his emotions. She probably thought he didn't see anything wrong with this, probably thought that he was indifferent to their closeness and flirting; yet she was wrong. He couldn't keep his eyes or hands off of her, and he was losing the will to stop his lips from pressing against hers, too. And that's why he fails to be able to name a single Reason from the list.

He runs his fingers up her arm. She shivers. It was like some ridiculously long foreplay. And she loved it. She only wished he was actually going somewhere with it, instead of just acting like it was nothing extraordinary.

But then...

...He leans in.

_To be continued..._

**A/N: Hope you're liking the story. Reviews are much longed-for :D Thanks x**


	3. Neither Hear the Knock on the Door

**Chapter 3 – Neither of Them Hear the Knock on the Door**

_He wants to kiss her. But he knows he shouldn't. Because of the Reasons, ordered in a list somewhere inside his brain. Trouble was, with her looking at him like that, with her reacting to his touch in this way...his superior Time Lord senses were completely swamped with everything that is Rose; smell, sight, sound, touch, taste. He was barely keeping control of his emotions. She probably thought he didn't see anything wrong with this, probably thought that he was indifferent to their closeness and flirting; yet she was wrong. He couldn't keep his eyes or hands off of her, and he was losing the will to stop his lips from pressing against hers, too. And that's why he fails to be able to name a single Reason from the list._

_He runs his fingers up her arm. She shivers. It was like some ridiculously long foreplay. And she loved it. She only wished he was actually going somewhere with it, instead of just acting like it was nothing extraordinary._

_But then..._

_...He leans in._

"Rose...I - "

And then the door swings open. They spring apart like repelling magnets, so quick that the Doctor overbalances and tumbles off the bed, and Rose suppresses the urge to laugh heartily. He looks so guilty, she thinks, but it wasn't as if they had been doing anything wrong. Yet. Although, she remembers, this is the Victorian era, the age of sexual repression, so she doubts that even them _sitting _on the same bed would be seen as acceptable by anyone coming in the room. She _knew _this would happen.

"Miss. Sir." Flora nods towards them both, watching them suspiciously as the Doctor gets himself back off the floor, makes to sit down, evidently thinks better of it, and remains standing, seemingly refusing to look Rose in the eye. She continues:

"I'm...er, sorry to interrupt whatever you were...um...doing, I did knock, but when you didn't answer I assumed you were asleep, Rose. And I thought you were in the room next door," she nodded towards the Doctor again.

Rose bit her lip. She'd neglected to tell him that this room was allocated to her, the one next door for him. After the stuff with the werewolf, she hadn't wanted him too far away from her. And...well, despite her initial protestations about lying on the same bed as him during this period of British history, things had worked out the way she hoped, and she hadn't thought they would actually be seen so...close. She hadn't thought _he _would let them get so close.

"What? Why would I -" he stops, and looks at Rose for the first time since he had removed himself oh-so-successfully from the bed. He points at her accusingly, "- You said we were sharing a room."

"I must have misunderstood, Flora, sorry," Rose says, surprisingly not looking remotely remorseful.

The Doctor remains silent.

"Well, I thought you would be asleep, and so I was just going to leave this dress on the chair for you to wear tomorrow," Flora replied.

"I'm okay thanks, I won't need it. We're leaving first thing."

"I hardly think it is proper for you to wear that," she gestured to Rose's rather short outfit, "...whilst receiving a _damehood, _miss."

"You what now?" screeched Rose.

"_Damehood?" _said the Doctor, incredulously, at exactly the same time.

"Quite. And you, sir, are really going to be a Sir. Although, I'm not sure that you should be; it's hardly gentlemanly, or knightly, to enter a young maiden's bed chambers in the middle of the night."

"Young maiden," he scoffs, which earns a warning glare from Rose.

"We were just talking," Rose says quickly.

"It didn't look like talking," replied Flora, who then looked bashful, as if realising she had spoken out of turn, "Sorry, miss, it's not my place to say, I know. And I know you are in love and everything, but you're also _unmarried_. And that just won't do, especially when Queen Victoria is staying in the residence," she said, in hushed tones.

"Wh...Wha...wait a minute – what? We're not..." Rose was taken aback. In love? What? Was she that obvious? She looked over at the Doctor, who was standing very, very still, mouth hanging open, but still strangely silent.

"Goodnight, Miss Rose. Goodnight Sir. Good luck for tomorrow..." Flora looked at the clock, "Well, later this morning. You should get some sleep, it's only a two hours until dawn."

"Right. Yes. Good...night, Flora. And thankyou, but I think I'll leave the dress."

"Of course." Flora had never met a girl quite like Rose before, and decided it best not to push the matter of her attire, lest she offend her in some way. She gave one shy last look of both disapproval and curiosity at the Doctor, and left the room.

Rose didn't want to risk a glance at the Doctor. She thought things may be very awkward if she tried to speak. So she stays sitting, upright, on the bed, staring at the door.

The Doctor thinks he should say something. Something – anything - to break the tension that has just magnified in the space between them. In love? Rassilon, was he that obvious?

"Rose?"

She shifts around to face him, but doesn't meet his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Perhaps...perhaps you should try to sleep now. Big day tomorrow!"

She looks up then, and beams.

"I'm going to be a _Dame!"_ she said joyfully, and just like that, as it always does between them, the tension dissipates. She suspects that's because they are such good friends. Just good friends. And there could never be a prolonged sense of awkwardness between them. The Doctor knows it's because they are both very, very skilled at masking it from each other.

"And I am going to be _knighted_! By Queen Victoria!" he replies, continuing, "Well, this has been some adventure, hasn't it?" and the way he says it hints at something more.

"It certainly has," she whispers, and the way she says it hints at something more.

He sits down on the bed again, and motions for her to lay back. She curls into his side, and his arm comes to rest gently on her shoulders. This, he thinks, is a far safer position. At least he can still hold her.

Neither of them says anything for a while, and he thinks she has fallen asleep. He brushes a strand of hair from her face, placing it behind her ear, and whispers,

"You're beautiful."

She opens her eyes at this, disbelieving what she thought she heard him say.

He stills. He thought she was asleep.

"For a human?" she replies wearily, chuckling lightly, her eyes drifting close again.

"For anyone," he insists, and kisses her forehead.

This surprises her, but she is too tired to question him further. So she lets herself drift off into sleep in the Doctor's arms. Just as it should be.

**A/N: Another chapter, perhaps? Reviews welcome with open arms and lots of love...from the Doctor and Rose :D**


	4. Very, Very Amused

**Chapter 4 – Very, Very Amused**

"Oh my god – they're werewolves!" laughs Rose, as they make their way into the TARDIS.

"Ahooooooooh!" howls the Doctor.

They laugh and laugh and he sets the coordinates for their brilliant ship to float in the vortex. It's been a long couple of days, chasing around after a werewolf, scary monks and of course, Queen Victoria.

"I can't _believe _I've been banished from my own country, in the century before I was even born! This is so fantastic, first I become a Dame, then I get exiled! Just wait 'til I tell Mum. She's gonna - "

"Slap me, most probably, like she always does. Really don't want that, Rose - it hurts! Please don't tell her."

"That was only once, and anyway, you were a different man back then."

"Which is relevant because...?"

"Because now she fancies you." She winks at him. He looks horrified. Then his expression turns a little smug.

"Actually...she fancied me before, too, even with the big ears..." Ha, that'll show her, he thinks.

"You what now?" Now Rose looks horrified.

"She, er, propositioned me the first time we met – she was in her dressing gown, and she was all like 'There's a strange man in my bedroom, anything could happen...'" he affects a particularly bad impression of Jackie's voice, "...and I swiftly told her it couldn't."

"Oh. Right. Sorry about that."

"Quite alright."

"No it isn't," Rose mumbled.

"What? Rose, it's fine - who'd be able to resist that old face, eh?" he laughed, but Rose was still looking a bit... "Rose...are you...jealous of your _mother?"_ He smirks.

"No! What? Why would I be jealous..." she trails off, blushing furiously.

"Well, because she obviously had the courage to make a move on me, whereas _you_ didn't," he winked. He is joking, because he doesn't entertain for one moment that she would have wanted to, realistically. And yet...she is blushing bright red. He decides to divert them away from _that_ conversation.

"Right. Well, anyway, you should get some rest. It's been a while since you slept properly..." Now _he_ trails off, thinking about last night at Torchwood House. Neither of them has mentioned it. Maybe they never will. He sort of wants to, though. No, he reminds himself, they can't go through that again, not after that almost-confession after New Earth. They're just friends, nothing more. As for last night, he really should have insisted on sitting in the chair. That could have solved all sorts of bother. But she had to go and – oh, wait...it was him who suggested they both lay together on the bed, wasn't it? Him who had pulled her into him. Him who brought out the banana. He shivers.

"I'm not tired. I'd rather stay here with you," Rose replies. He hasn't mentioned the last night, she thinks. Maybe she should. Ask him whether he meant what he said. She's sure he hadn't said it deliberately; he thought she couldn't hear him. When Flora said about them being in love...he never denied it. And she kinda hopes that means what she thinks it means. Although, she doesn't know whether she could cope with another unresolved sexual tension moment like last night, along with what happened last week, after Cassandra and the hospital. When he almost told her. When he almost _kissed_ her.

She knows this is for the best, though. They are just friends, nothing more. When she awoke this morning, things were back to normal. He was still holding her close, but the way he always did, out of close friendship rather than suggestive of something more. They got up, she moaned about him carrying everything _but _a toothbrush and toothpaste in his pockets; they went and got their reward – and punishment – from Queen Victoria, she won her bet; they hitched a lift back to the TARDIS, they laughed about the Royal Disease. All fairly normal behaviour. Holding hands all the way, but no more almost-kissing. And that was for the best.

However...she has still got that mistletoe, from back with the werewolf. And she _really _wanted to conduct an experiment, despite the fact it wasn't Christmas.

Maybe this was stupid – maybe they should stop dancing around each other. Maybe she could do this and not ruin their friendship.

"Are you sure? You look sort of dazed. You were brilliant by the way, back there. Werewolf, eh? Easy for Rose Tyler," he beams, proudly.

She breaks out of her daydream and smiles, tongue poking out of the side of her mouth. He knows this smile. It's her teasing smile. He loves this smile. But it is still very distracting.

"Actually, I'll think you'll find that's _Dame_ Rose Tyler to you, Doctor."

"_Sir_ Doctor," he reprimands, mock sternly. He walks over to her, where she's perched on the Captain's chair. She is poking her tongue out him, and he shakes his head. Rassilon, he loves this girl. Oh. See, he thinks, I am admitting it to _myself _now, so why I can't I just tell _her?_

Because I'm scared, he replies to himself.

He sits down beside her, and takes out his glasses, putting them on in one swift motion. He appears to study her face. She squirms uncomfortably under his intense inspection of her. What's he doing now?

What am I doing now? Oh, what the hell.

"Rose...you have a really lovely face, you know."

Well, she wasn't expecting that. Blimey.

"Er...thanks?"

"Last night, when said what I said, I meant it. You're beautiful, but you don't even see it."

She is astounded at this.

She scoffs. "Yeah, ok...for a human?" she repeats her reply from last night, not knowing what else to say, and chuckles.

"I told you. For anyone..." he trails off, as if realising what he's been saying for the first time.

"Yeah. Well, you're rather dashing...for a Time Lord."

"Evidently," he says, gesturing to his hair, "I have rather great hair, don't you think?" he scratched his chin, "and a fantastic jaw line..."

"Oh yes," she replies, and as if to prove it, she runs the fingers of her left hand through his luscious full head of hair, and caresses his jaw with her right.

He shivers involuntarily, a strange sensation running down his body almost like desire, but he covers it up by simply saying, "That tickles."

"Good."

"We really look like a Sir and a Dame, don't we?"

"Sure we do," she says, sarcastically.

"Weellll, a rather unconventional Sir and a Dame, I suppose. The best kind."

"Yeah, each of us is pretty unconventional on our own. Together...perhaps we..."

"What?"

"Match." She suddenly realises how silly she must sound – he's a 900 year old alien, with boundless intelligence, and she's just a 19 year old shop girl from London, who didn't even get any A-levels. They couldn't be more different, and she thinks he's about to say so.

But he doesn't.

"Oh. Yes. Quite." He continues to study her face as if she's some alien artefact he's trying to decipher the purpose of.

He looks so nice in those glasses. She wonders...

"Do you need those glasses? 'Cos it seems to me you only wear them to make yourself look...clever," she says. Sexy, she thinks.

"Of course I do. It's just a perk that they make me look as super-intelligent as I am. And as sexy," he grins and winks at her.

She bites her lip and laughs back.

"Of course." She shifts round to face him properly, lifting her legs up and crossing them. He leans back and rests his feet against the side of console, ankles crossed, his head turned to keep his gaze on Rose.

They sit like that for a while, laughing and joking, teasing and flirting, reminiscing about times gone by...

**A/N: Hope you're enjoying the story. All that's left to say now is: to review or not to review...that is the question. The answer, however, is rather simple. Go with your instinct ****But**** reviews are LOVED. A lot. So please let your instinct be 'to review'. It will make me very happy x**


	5. Time Lords Don't Get Jealous

**Chapter 5 – Time Lords Don't Get Jealous**

"_Do you need those glasses? 'Cos it seems to me you only wear them to make yourself look...clever," she says. Sexy, she thinks._

"_Of course I do. It's just a perk that they make me look as super-intelligent as I am. And as sexy," he grins and winks at her. _

_She bites her lip and laughs back._

"_Of course." She shifts round to face him properly, lifting her legs up and crossing them. He leans back and rests his feet against the side of console, ankles crossed, his head turned to keep his gaze on Rose._

_They sit like that for a while, laughing and joking, teasing and flirting, reminiscing about times gone by..._

Sometime later, two hours in fact, the two time-and-space travellers were still sitting in the same positions, having a minor disagreement...

"Oh, he really fancied you. It was _horrendous_ to watch. He was such a slimy git, he was. Don't have a clue what you saw in him..." he said, grunting.

"What? Me? I just _smiled_ at him, that's all. He _complimented _me and I _smiled, _and then you grunted, just like you did just then, and _dragged _me out of the ballroom. I almost lost the left heel of those lovely red stilettos. Cor, anyone would think you were _jealous_ or something," she laughed.

"Time Lords don't get jealous. I was just...concerned. I had a bad feeling about him. Call it Time Lord instinct. And anyway, he turned out to be the one behind the evil plot, didn't he? Guess I'm just a _much _better judge of character than you."

"Time Lord instinct my ars - "

"Rose..." he interrupted, warningly. Then he continued, "You trust people too easily, that's all I'm saying. Some man smiles at you and you practically fall at his feet."

"Ok, firstly, yeah, perhaps I do trust people too easily, but if I didn't then I wouldn't have gone running off with you, and I wouldn't be here now, would I_?"_

"Yes, but I'm a nice person. And I wasn't some alien prince who only wanted you for your...your -"

"Lovely face? Or did you mean..." she bites her lip and lowers her voice suggestively "...my body?" she laughs as he has the decency to blush, "And what are you then, if not an alien? And what did you want me for, eh?"

"Er, for companionship, your bravery, and... ooh: to thank you for quite possibly saving my life," he said, all the while thinking along the lines of: your smile, your hand to hold.

"Someone to show off to, more like," she smiles that teasing smile again.

"Weeellll, yes, that too," he admits, tugging his ear.

"Anyway, as I was saying before you rudely interrupted me, I most certainly did _not_ fall at his feet. I mean, yeah, he was handsome, and witty, and charming, yeah -" she smirks as the Doctor's expression turns a bit sour – "- but he was nothing compared to...to other guys that have complimented me."

The Doctor looks alarmed.

"Other guys?" Woah, why did his voice go all high just then? That's never happened before, he thinks. Got to cover that up. He clears his throat, "Not that I care, or anything. Just make sure they don't want to turn the entire population of the planet Alib Alub into... evil bunny rabbits, like that other guy did."

This was just too easy.

"Evil bunny rabbits?" she questioned, eyebrow raised - a very alarmingly similar expression as to what the Doctor often adopted.

"Weeellll, they looked a bit like bunnies, didn't they? All fluffy. I simplified it for your benefit. You wouldn't be able to pronounce their real name, hence why I never told you what they were called at the time."

"Try me," she smiles.

"Fine: Ilaohtiopoolexikka."

"Right. Ihaootirexka. Easy." She knew she'd gotten it wrong. She didn't care.

He gave her a smug smile. Then he remembered.

"Other guys?" he repeated.

"Yeah," she said. No. Just you, she thought.

"Oh," he replied, aware that he sounded dreadfully disappointed. And then he realised that it didn't matter, because she was here, with him. He looked down. Somewhere during their conversation, Rose had scooted closer to him. Or maybe he had scooted closer to her. He frowns.

"Doctor?"

"Huh?"

"You'll get lines on your forehead, frowning like that."

He sniffed. "Nah, not me. I stay young and fresh. You're the one who's getting wrinkles," he says, and laughs at her worried expression.

"What?!" She brings her hand to her forehead anxiously.

"Not really, you silly human," he chuckles and reaches across to tickle her ribcage, "_Vain_ human." She laughs and begs him to stop with the tickling, but he's merciless in his mission. She wriggles and wriggles until she falls off the Captain's chair, still laughing, and, naturally - as it was _all_ his fault - she drags the Doctor down with her as she descends to the grating.

Oh, would you look at that. The laughter dissolves and that tension's resurfaced, and she feels something strange deep inside her as she stares up at him, lying atop of her. They both lay there, motionless. She's unsure what to do. Well, she concludes, he'll have to move first, because right now he's squishing her and she couldn't move even if she wanted to. Which she didn't.

Oh no. This was not the best position to be in if he wanted to keep his self-control...well, controlled. Which is what he should do. On the other hand...it was the best position to be in if he wanted to just lean down slightly and kissed her parted lips. Which is what he wanted to do. Rassilon, she looked beautiful, from this angle just as much as all the others he'd observed her from.

He knew around 7.367 seconds had passed. And that was far too long for neither of them to have moved yet. But he couldn't bring himself to remove his body from pressing down on her. This is very nice. For a moment, he thinks he might kiss her...

Well, he's obviously got no intention of moving, she thinks, and Rose quite likes it. She can feel the rapid double thump, thump of his hearts, and is delighted that he's finally as affected by their close proximity as her. His hand comes up beside her head and she briefly, sadly, thinks he's going to push himself up, hold out a hand to help her up, and walk away, rambling about their next destination.

He doesn't. Instead, he braces himself on his forearms, so that he's not completely against her anymore, just hovering. She feels a wave of dissatisfaction go through her in the absence of his warm body pressed into hers. And then he lowers his head. This is very nice. For a moment, she thinks he might kiss her too...

Then he whispers, oh so quietly, barely an inch away from her lips, "Rose...I - "

And he almost says it, but then finds the words stuck in his throat.

"...I think I win," he comments instead.

"Oh yeah?" she smirks.

"Yeah."

"Methinks you're wrong. The battle is not over yet!" She announces joyfully. And with that, she hooks her leg around his, and flings him over onto his back, laughing mischievously, so that she is lying above him this time. Weeellll, not laying, really...it was rather distracting...as she was almost...straddling him, hovering a few inches above him. But he doesn't move her off. He simply stares up at her, lips twitching, suppressing a wide smile as he tries to feign indifference at her movements. At her legs positioned, her on her knees, either side of his hips, hovering. Then, much to his awe and confusion, she reaches down the front of her dungaree-skirt thingy and pulls out a sprig of some sort of plant...oh. Mistletoe. She smiles at him.

She thinks it's time to implement her investigation. It is a very appropriate time to do so, really, as he is trapped underneath her, no way of escape, no way of running away from what he wants. She is in control now. He can't pull away. She stops hovering, and sits down. He lets out a small gasp, and then abruptly closes his mouth, pretending no sound ever emanated from him. But she heard it. She feels it. She leans down, mistletoe in her hand above her head.

If she wasn't wearing that purple top under that dungaree-skirt thingy, he ponders, he would have an altogether different view right now, and he reckons it would be rather nice. Then he realises what he just thought, and feels a bit flustered. Yes, he wanted to kiss her, yes, he loved her, but he'd never thought like that...oh, who was he kidding? He would quite happily sit underneath her, like this, forever. But he knew she was only playing around. Pushing him to see how far he would allow it to go. How far out of the boundaries of 'just good friends' they would make it before one of them pulled back.

They both wanted to make it all the way. But neither would admit that.

The fact was, he was a Time Lord, and Time Lords didn't really have...desires like that. Usually. He never had before. But then, he always was a bit of a renegade. He's always breaking the rules. Especially where Dame Rose Tyler is concerned.

He leans up towards her tantalising smile, which disappears in confusion. Hmmm, she obviously didn't expect him to comply with her little plan. He suspects she thought he'd pretend it was all a joke, a joke gone far enough, and push her off him. Well, maybe it was time to surprise her. Maybe it was time to break the rules.

She pauses. He's not supposed to be doing this. She thought she'd have to hold him down while she pressed her lips to his. In truth, she kinda thought she would never even get this far. She was pushing the boundaries, she knew it, and the Doctor would call her on it, she was sure. She knew he wanted this, she could _feel _it, but he would never act on it. But then again...he was leaning up, ready, staring into her eyes intently, patiently.

She shifts her hips a little, and his lips part to form an 'o' shape in surprise at the pleasant, warm feeling seeping through his body, a nervous feeling in his stomach. He didn't know he could feel like this. This was much more...human, than Time Lord. This was what Rose did to him.

Rassilon, he really wanted to kiss her now.

And all those doubts, those Reasons – adding up to _around_ 9000 – why he shouldn't kiss her, shouldn't tell her he loves her, have disappeared once more. He doesn't care that when she's gone from him, his hearts will break. Because he has her now. Right here, right now, sitting on top of him.

And she fills his hearts; his thoughts; his feelings, everyday, and now, he thinks he should make the most of her while he still has her. Because he knows she won't be here forever, but he'd be damned if he's going to let her be taken from him anytime soon.

And he's fallen far, far too deep in love with her to stop himself from breaking the rules.


	6. But It's Not Christmas

**Chapter 6 – But It's Not Christmas**

_And she fills his hearts; his thoughts; his feelings, everyday, and now, he thinks he should make the most of her while he still has her. Because he knows she won't be here forever, but he'd be damned if he's going to let her be taken from him anytime soon. _

_And he's fallen far, far too deep in love with her to stop himself from breaking the rules. _

She feels dizzy with anticipation. This is it; she knows it this time, as she can see the way he is looking at her, eyes darker than she's ever seen them, and all those fears and doubts that had clouded his gaze last time they were like this, almost-kissing, have gone. And she knows. He's not playing a game. They've pushed the boundaries so far that they've shattered and crumbled into nothingness. All that's left is him and her. She wants him. And he wants her. He grips her hips firmly. She notices him glance up at her raised hand with the mistletoe between her fingers.

He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and whispers,

"Rose, you do know it's not Christmas, don't you?"

"It is somewhere," she replies, quietly, smiling gently.

He considers this a moment.

"Quite right too."

And with that, he kisses her.

And his lips are against hers, gently parting them, nibbling her lower lip, running his tongue along the soft flesh, and she responds, rather enthusiastically, he notes.

And it's gentle, and it's loving and through its tenderness he tries to tell her how he feels; the words will never be enough, so he doesn't try to utter them. Now is time for action rather than talk.

And he slips his tongue in her open mouth to explore what he's always wanted to taste, ever since last night - ever since that first day, the first word 'Run!' And it's lovely. And a million and one thoughts rush through his mind, like: why has he never done this before?

And: Why would he think it would be better to miss out on this?

And: She tastes of that banana she ate last night. I was right. It's delicious.

And: This woman means the world to me.

And: I think I rather like snogging Rose Tyler.

And: She loves me.

And Rose can't believe it.

She feels like she's floating. Or dreaming. Oh, please don't let this be a dream. Because this feels fantastic, and perfect and so, so right, and if it's dream, and she has to wake up...oh she'll just _scream_.

Because it feels like Christmas even though it isn't. And she can't believe this is happening. For so, so long she's wondered what this would be like. And she thinks that if the universe ends tomorrow, she won't give a damn. Because she is happy. And she rather likes snogging the Doctor.

***

In the end, it is her who breaks the kiss, pulls away. She gasps for breath, and, despite his respiratory bypass system, she finds he is panting softly too. And she knows that soon, this moment will be over, because they can't do this forever, and he will let her get off of him, and he will chuckle and they will laugh and he will grab her hand and show her the stars. And perhaps this will never happen again. But she sure knows one thing: her experiment seemed to work. She always has loved Christmas traditions.

They gaze each other for a short while, but he doesn't let her off of his lap. In fact, he holds her there quite firmly, his hands grasping her waist, having slipped past the denim of her dungarees, under the hem of her purple top, his fingers lightly grazing the skin of her stomach. And it's like nothing they've ever been before. And it makes every nerve in her body tingle. But then they smile and each other and he does begin to chuckle, and they laugh, and he thinks he has never felt so scared, happy and disorientated all at once. All because of kissing Rose Tyler.

He thinks he might like to kiss her again. And so he does.

This time it's more frenzied, passionate and forceful, and her hands are in his hair, and his hands frame her face, and his tongue implores her mouth, exploring every last bit, and her tongue fights his for dominance. And it's brilliant. Because finally, _finally,_ he knows what to do. He decides that he can have this. Have _her_. For her forever, however long that is. If she wants him. His hands run up her back, pressing her down closer to him, and she grasps his hair tightly, pushing his face into hers. Tongues are clashing and lips are bitten and noses are bumped and it's messy and it's fantastic and it's passionate and it's full of love and hope and lust and promise...And for once, they both sort of think something more could be happening...

...suddenly the TARDIS lurches, and Rose is thrown from his lap, and the Doctor bumps his end on the grating with a THUMP. They look at each other; the Doctor frowns, extremely ungrateful for the interruption. Rose catches her breath, somewhat bewildered by the entire situation. She just laughs. This is just _typical_ for them. Always interrupted...

The Doctor jumps up, runs over to Rose, hauls her up, grabs her hand and races over to the console screen.

"That's odd," he stated, his voice still rather husky while his mind catches up with him. He clears his throat, "It appears we have moved."

"But you didn't do anything. You said we were floating in the vortex. We were...well, we were on the floor, nowhere near um, any buttons or erm...knobs...um...or levers," she stuttered.

"Exactly. That's why it's odd. Perhaps we should take a look outside. Someone may want to see us." Or we could stay in here, he thinks, and hopes she'll suggest just that. He'd rather like to continue with the adventure they were just having, instead of beginning a new one, which almost certainly won't revolve around them kissing.

"Where are we? When are we?" asks Rose. She thinks he'd want to check this out. The universe could be ending or something, and she knows he would much rather have a go at saving it than doing something as domestic and time-consuming as kissing. She wishes he wouldn't, though.

"Er...Las Vegas, 11am, 12th November, 1970." Damn. She wants to explore. She's right though. They should explore. He supposes the universe could be ending or something. Stupid universe. Being a stupid Time Lord, but never having any _time..._

"The city? On Earth?" she perks up a little. There could be worse places to be transported. Maybe they could have a go at the casinos after they save the day. On second thoughts, she'd rather get back to their...er...mini-adventure as soon as possible, holiday can wait. That's if the Doctor doesn't ignore what just happened between them. She hopes he won't.

"Nah, the planet!" he mocks sarcastically.

"Well I don't know! There's the planet version of Barcelona – where you still haven't taken us, by the way – so how should I know there's no planet of Las Vegas. Really, you'd have thought there would be, I'm sure they'd make a_ mint_ - "she stops as he opens the doors whilst laughing at his brilliant companion, pulling her along behind him.

"Are you ready? If something's summoned us here, it could be dangerous. We may have to run for our lives."

"Maybe it's Elvis..."

"If it's him, then this definitely might be dangerous. I could lose you to him. You'd like him. He'd compliment you -" he looked her up and down, taking in her flushed face and hair sticking out everywhere, one of her dungaree-skirt thingy's straps fallen off her shoulder. Yes, he'd definitely compliment her. She was looking rather sexy, in an understated, just-experienced- the-best-snog-of-her-life sort of way. He shakes his head and continues, "- and you, _you_ Rose Tyler, may just fall at his feet."

"Aha huh. Brilliant! I love a bit of rock'n'roll! Oh the leather...the quiffs...the chest hair!" she exclaims dramatically and very, very happily, winking at him over her shoulder as she exits the TARDIS, a spring in her step.

Oh dear, he thinks, as he stares after her. He hopes Elvis had already left the building, as he fears otherwise, he may be upstaged.

He catches up with her and places his hand in hers.


	7. The Stakes Are High

**Chapter 7 – The Stakes Are High**

In the end it turned out to be a Lexifian ship - which had discreetly crash-landed beside Caesar Palace – that had transported the TARDIS from the vortex to Las Vegas. Not Elvis. And the Doctor was a bit confused.

"But how did you do it? Lexifians don't have that sort of technology," the Doctor asked their Captain. He was the leader of a small group of them - only five could fit in the spaceship, apparently - and they all looked like little oompa loompas to Rose. Except with claws. She doubts she'll ever be able to watch _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ again.

"Perhaps we have our secret ways, Doctor, just like you."

"What do you mean?"

"We were expecting you, yes, for we need you to help us. You have a great expanse of knowledge that we need you to impart a little to us. We know that you helped our ancestors with a similar problem. But this is no matter for a female, and we were not expecting your wife to join us. Indeed, we thought you travelled _alone._"

The Doctor looked down at his hand grasped in Rose's. Ah. He forgot this was the Lexifian symbol of their version of...well, of marriage. The Doctor suspected he should correct him.

Rose looked at the Doctor expectantly, waiting for him to correct the stout, orange Lexifian's mistake.

"Oh. Right. Well, tough, 'cos she stays with me," the Doctor said, "But Rose isn't my wife," he thought he should add, quickly, but doesn't let go of her hand. Because, why should he? They're not Lexifian. The holding hands thing doesn't mean anything for them.

Or so he likes to tell himself.

"Are you sure?"

"I think we would know," said Rose.

"Very well," said the Captain, "But she might want to stand back. Things could get rather nasty from what we've observed."

"She's fine."

"_She _has a name," said Rose.

"What do you need me for?" asked the Doctor.

"Well, we've...er..." he looks at Rose sheepishly, as if embarrassed, and with his next words, the Doctor knows why he was so keen to get rid of Rose, "um...crash-landed here, in this strange, strange place...and we need some help getting home."

Lexifians absolutely _hate _to crash. And they hate to admit it. And ask for help. _Especially _in front of pretty girls like Rose Tyler. Their pride was terribly wounded by this.

"Right, well, I'll be glad to help in any way - "

"- But first, we are rather fascinated by a strange, strange little game that all the humans seem to be playing in this city...and we would like to learn," the Captain interrupted...

"- Possible. Oh. Huh?"

*******

"Hang on...Are you saying that you want to play...? What??"

And with that, they played some poker.

*******

Laughing hysterically, they ran. Very, very fast, away from the mess they had made after a _tiny _disagreement with the Lexifians. The friendly inter-species poker game had got a bit out of hand. But at least no one had died. Relations were resolved. They helped them on their way. As quickly as possible, lest the Doctor offend them in some way. Again.

The Doctor looked up at the spaceship flying its way home, and Rose tried to catch her breath.

"I can't believe you actually fell for it though. That's gotta be the best bluffer in the universe," taunted Rose, pointing upwards at the spaceship, once she had recovered from their brisk sprint across the streets of Las Vegas.

"Yeah, well, how was I supposed to know he was cheating his way through the game? I just thought he was very lucky," the Doctor tried to justify.

"I just thought you were very bad at poker," she smiles cheekily.

"Oi! I'll have you know I'm very good. Usually. Just not when the stakes are so high. It's the pressure..."

"Then why did you bet the _Earth_ in the first place? Who gave you the deeds to this planet, anyway? It's not even your home."

"No. It's yours. And what's yours is mine," he grinned. Then he remembers how the Lexifians thought they were married, simply because they held hands all the time. He mentally shook himself.

She laughed at him, shaking her head. He was always saying these things. Things that suggested something...well, something more. But things that he, a Time Lord, would see no significance in.

"Anyway, we made peace with them, didn't we? Weellll, after we stopped them from implementing their rather rash, impulsive decision to take over the Earth," commented the Doctor.

"That we did," Rose said, suppressing a yawn.

"Right. Back to the TARDIS?" the Doctor said.

"Arghh, that's miles away. I don't think I can walk much further without falling asleep standing up," complained Rose, and she couldn't stop it this time, she yawned widely. She suddenly became aware that she was thoroughly exhausted.

"Ahh, now there's an interesting factoid, relating back to our little friends the Lexifians –_ they_ really _do _sleep standing up. Brilliant, really,'cos they can also navigate their way around the cosmos through their subconscious state, and never crash. Weellll, I say never...those ones we met today did. Which is why we had to give 'em a little jump start back there. So, almost never..." he pauses, glancing over at Rose swaying unsteadily on her feet, almost about to drop off into her dreams, and he realised that she hadn't slept properly in well over 36 hours. After all that business with the werewolf, and then the...er...kissing...and then the Lexifians, they've barely stopped. The adrenaline had been keeping her going, and now they _had _stopped, her body was realising how exhausted it really was. He feels a bit guilty.

"Change of plan, then," he swivels them around, and waves his sonic screwdriver, "I'll go..._obtain _some cash, you sit here, and when I get back we'll stay the night in that hotel over there."

"Really?" Rose says, perking up a bit, "Ooh, don't worry about the money, though, 'cos I feel bad about just taking it from cash points. We can use my own money..." she reaches down her top and pulls out a few rolls of cash that she had somehow managed to store inside her bra.

The Doctor swallows thickly.

"And where did you get that?" he asks, bemused. And slightly arous – no, he stops himself.

"Well, I actually _won _the poker game _I_ was playing," she smirks, poking her tongue out at him.

The Doctor is dismayed.

They begin to walk towards a hotel with pink flashing neon lights.

"Really? Why didn't you say you were so good? You could've played for me...actually, no. No, that wouldn't have helped. Those crafty buggers would've fooled anyone. Even you. No. I still maintain that I'm better than you," the Doctor remarks.

"Right. Well, after I've slept a bit -" she pauses, and looks down at herself, acknowledging the fact that she's been wearing the same outfit for a couple of days now, and wrinkles her nose " – and had a very long shower, can we stay here for a bit? Play around in the casinos? Go see Elvis? Have our own poker tournament, in which I will prove to you that you're rubbish, and I'm _fantastic_?" she asks, hopefully.

He beams at her, and walks her towards the hotel reception desk.

"Of course," he says.

"Hello there. We'd like to book a room for the night, please," he says cheerfully to the lady behind reception. Rose leans on him in her tiredness. He wraps an arm around her waist. Just to hold her steady, of course.

He thinks perhaps he will tell her tomorrow. But then again, the stakes are high, and he doesn't know if he has the courage to risk it.

And when the lady asks him if he would be alright escorting his exhausted wife up to their room, Rose doesn't hear her, and he doesn't correct her, and he replies that he'll be fine.

He lifts up his sleepy Rose in his arms, and she lets him without any protest, and he carries her all the way to room 184.

And he wonders if this is what it would be like. On the slow path. With Rose Tyler.

The one adventure he could never have.


	8. So What Happens Now?

**Chapter 8 – So What Happens Now?**

He gently eases Rose back on her feet as they stand outside the door, while he fumbles for the key to unlock it.

The room is nice. Nothing too flash, but fine for them. They've slept in worse places. Rose flops down on the bed and lets out a contented sigh.

"Comfy?" the Doctor asks.

"Hmmm, yes."

"I thought you were going to have a shower first?" he says, immediately wishing he hadn't. Because now he was thinking of that very image. He shivers.

"Yeah. Yeah, I should, really," she replies, before abruptly falling asleep.

The Doctor moves her over a bit and lies down beside her. He strokes her hair from out of her eyes. She smiles, and huddles into his side in her sleep. He puts his arm around her, holding her close, like so many other times before. He smiles.

And for once, he doesn't think about anything. He just watches her sleeping.

*******

Sometime later, when she awakes, he repeats his question.

"Oh. Oh god, did I fall asleep already? How long for?"

"Ooh, only about twelve hours."

It was now the early hours of the morning, them having got to the hotel at about five the previous evening.

"Oh. Whoops, sorry." She hoped he hadn't minded her sleeping so long. He often moaned at her about how humans wasted time sleeping when they could be doing other things.

"That's alright. After the last few days, you could probably do with some more." He hadn't minded her sleeping for so long, while he had lain wide awake. For he had been perfectly content to watch her, embracing her in his arms.

"Shower?" he said.

"Yeah. Gonna actually get up this time," she laughed, heaving herself up off the bed, "I won't be long. Shame I haven't got a change of clothes, though," she catches sight of something hanging on the back of the door, "Oh, look there are some complementary dressing gowns; I'll just wear that afterwards. Until we go exploring, that is." She puts one on the bed, and finds a towel in the wardrobe. And with that, she disappears into the ensuite bathroom, leaving the Doctor lying on his own in the middle of the bed, pondering.

Now she was awake, they might have to talk about what had happened the previous morning. Presently, they were staying in a room with one double bed. It was like Torchwood House all over again.

Only this time, there would be no interruptions from a Victorian servant-girl.

This time, they'd already broken a few rules, back on the TARDIS. Would they pick up where they left off...from when they were on the floor of the TARDIS, before it was teleported to another point in space and time?

Or should they ignore it ever happened? Go on pretending? Hiding their feelings from each other?

He thinks that's may be what they should do, before things get too far. Before they get too complicated.

But he knows. As he held her through the night, he knew. That's not want he wants. That's not what she wants.

They both want to break some more rules.

Meanwhile, Rose was also thinking, whilst standing under the gentle pound of water from the shower. She was sure that yesterday, on the TARDIS, he had enjoyed that kiss they had shared. Hell, it was the snog of her _life, _and she hoped he would do it again, if only to see if he could top it. She didn't know what to do, though. He hadn't mentioned it since it happened, and she thinks that it's because he regretted it. Because however enthusiastic and passionate he was at the time, she knew that _he_ knew that this would complicate things between them. That this, whatever they were doing, was no longer just about some alien showing some girl, who saved him once, the stars. It was about them; the two of them, together. Better with two. And she wanted him to take her to far off worlds, bizarre planets, and ancient periods of time. She wanted him to show her what is to come in the future, take her to meet brilliant people, give her the universe. She still wanted all of that. Because she loves it.

But in every single one of those places; in every single adventure, she also wanted him to kiss her. Because she loved _him. _With every beat of her heart.And nothing else was impossible, except maybe that.

So, should she ask him what happens now? Should she ignore her feelings? Should she question his?

She gets out of the shower, wraps a fluffy pink towel around herself, and, realising she left the dressing gown on the bed, she opens the door, still dripping wet.

And in the end, it's him who answers her questions.


	9. What Happens In Vegas

**Chapter 9 – What Happens In Vegas**

H e is standing by the window when she steps out of the bathroom. It's still dark outside, and the lights of 1970 Las Vegas are shining brightly. There are people - young couples, groups of girls, groups of boys, hen parties, stag parties – still out there, partying and gambling, getting drunk or getting married, at five thirty in the morning. There must be something about this place that induces extraordinary behaviour. It amazes him.

And he sees her, in the reflection of the window, the city lights illuminating her as she stands there, dripping wet, hair splayed across her shoulders, wearing what the Doctor could only describe as a _very_ enticing short towel. He smiles, turning around as she calls his name softly.

"Yes, Rose?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yep! I'm brilliant!"

"Good," she says, smiling lightly, "Er, would you mind passing me that dressing gown?" she asks tentatively, still hovering in the doorway, so that she doesn't risk her towel dropping down right in front of him. That's the last thing she needs. She thinks. Or maybe it would shock him into action? She suppresses a giggle at that.

"Right-o! Here you are," he replies, slightly over-enthusiastically. He's trying to keep his cool, you see. Trying to concentrate on her face. Rather than anywhere...well, lower.

"Ta," she says, taking it off of him. Her fingers brush his and she feels a jolt of electricity through her at his cool touch. She shivers, and then notices the way the Doctor is staring at her. He's looking into her eyes the way he does sometimes. Like he wants to pull her to him and never let her go. She knows he won't do that, though. Unfortunately.

He's still standing tantalisingly close to her. He catches a drop of water sliding down her shoulder, and then strokes his fingers down her arm to the back of her hand; he feels her hairs on her arms stand on end. Her breath hitches. He swallows.

Both of their hearts skip a beat at what he does next.

With no warning - or perhaps, if they really thought about, with every warning - that this would happen, he presses his lips to the corner of her mouth, apart slightly, his breath ghosting over her cheek. He keeps them there, and he feels her drop the dressing gown she's holding and intertwine her hand with his at their side. With her other hand she touches his chest, drawing meaningless patterns over his heart with her fingers. He has his jacket off, and is standing there in his thin blue shirt. He quivers at her touch, and his breathing speeds up. She turns her head a little, her nose nudging his lightly, and his lips capture hers.

She thinks maybe she should drop the towel, now.

But of course, she doesn't.

"Doctor?" she says softly, "What does this mean?"

"I have no idea," he whispers back, "I've never felt like this before."

She gasps, and swallows the lump in her throat, fights back the tears she swears should not be about to fall from her eyes.

He kisses her again, tentatively, nervously, shaking a little.

Still joined with hers, he brings his left hand up to push a strand of her wet hair behind her ear as he breaks contact with her lips. He leans down a bit and trails soft, barely-there kisses along her jaw line up to her ear, and she trembles against him, gripping his shirt into her tight fist. His bare neck above his collar is simply inviting her in, so she kisses him there, letting her tongue slip out a little, teasing him.

He inhales sharply and as he does so he breathes her in. She smells of strawberries again. This hotel must have the same shampoo.

She's everywhere, filling his senses, and he knows he should stop this. They are so close now, to what's been on the cards for such a long time. And it scares him.

So he does something very, very silly.

The Doctor steps back quickly, clearing his thoughts with a shake of his head, and he tries to not to imagine what it would be like to follow the path of those gorgeous droplets of water sliding down her collarbone with his lips; to press her to him and never let her get away.

Ohhhhhh. Why?

He wants to kiss her again.

She feels sort of lost without his body so close to hers, his lips at her ear. She wants him to carry on kissing her.

They stand there staring at each other for a few moments, each of them restraining themselves, stopping themselves from leaping into each other's arms.

"I'll just dry off and get into this," says Rose quietly, gesturing to the dressing gown on the floor, breaking the silence, but afraid to speak very loudly in case she ruins the idyllic moment of peace that has settled between them, in spite of the electricity - the sexual tension - in the air. He looks deep into her eyes, as if searching her soul. She knows that it is going to happen. It has to. But it won't be tonight.

He averts his gaze as she bends forward to pick it up, and clears his throat.

"Sure. What do you want to do?"

_You_, she thinks.

"Er...I don't mind. Maybe we could just chill for a bit. Y'know, relax and watch a movie. Before we hit the casinos," she says.

"Ok, sounds good. Elvis is performing at seven tonight, so we have the whole day to spend in the city."

"Cool. Thanks. Anyway," she gestures to herself, "I'll just...yeah." And she goes back into the bathroom.

The Doctor lets out a long sigh.

Why?

_Why?_

Why was he such a coward?

*******

A few hours later and things were back to normal. The moment was gone, and they were just them, friends, larking about.

Rose was rushing around the room in her fluffy dressing gown, trying to keep the remote out of the Doctor's questing hands.

"Hahaha...no, let go, I want to watch this one now...Doctor, stop it." She runs just out of his way as he lunges towards her.

"Rose! _Rose..._ No! You got to watch what you wanted, now give the...Rose, give me the..." the Doctor says, as he chases her.

"No! Oh no. You'll just make us watch the Muppets Movie, and we saw that about fifteen times already, over Christmas..."

"No I won't, I promise. But I can't stand to watch another one of those soppy old chick flick-y things we just had to suffer three hours of..."

"Oi!" she replies, insulted at his disrespect for her movie choice, "It was _Titanic!_ Everyone love that! It's a classic..."

"Please. Give. Me. The. Remote. Please. Please? ..._Roseee..." _he whines.

She runs away from him again, and he trips over his own feet. He lands with a crash on the floor and bumps his head on the bedpost.

Rose is in hysterics.

"Ha! See! Look what happens when you're rude! It's karma!" she exclaims, cackling away.

"Oi! Rose. Rose! Stop it. It's not funny. Stop laughing. _Stop _it! Oh for goodness...I'm gonna get the remote off of you if it's the last thing I do. So you might as well just surrender! White flag and all that," he insists.

"Nope. Never gonna get it!" she laughs, jumping up onto the bed as he reached his arm out.

"Oh yeah?" he replies, and jumps up too, pulling her down. He traps her underneath him, but she puts her arms behind her back and still refuses to give in. He begins to tickle her, and she's squirming around beneath him, unable to use her hands to defend herself.

Then he realises what he's doing.

This is all very reminiscent of yesterday. But this time he's very aware of the fact that Rose is in her dressing gown, and...not much else. And the Doctor quite likes it.

Rose looks up at him, leaning above her, a teasing smile on his face. He props himself up on his elbows and inclines towards her body. She thinks he's going to kiss her.

Her breathing speeds up, and she forgets all about the remote, her grasp on it weakening as she stares into the Doctor's eyes, her heart beating erratically at having him so close, his body pressing into hers at every possible point of contact, except her lips...

But then he slips his arm underneath her and seizes the remote, his expression shifting from barely-hidden desire to grinning triumphantly.

"Rose...Oh look. I win."

She's a bit disappointed, but is also a bit dazed.

"Okay," she breathes, voice a little shaky.

"And I'm wondering..." If I can kiss you? Can I - Can we –

No.

"And I was wondering...should we go get something to eat? Some brunch? You must be hungry. We didn't even have popcorn with the film," he says, wishing he'd said the other thing, knowing he never would.

"Sure," she replies, convinced he had been about to say something else, but grateful for this anyway, as she was, in actual fact, _ravenous,_ she now noticed.

"Right. Well, you better get dressed. I don't mind you wearing that dressing gown, but the restaurant might - " he sees her eyebrows shoot up, "It smells nice and clean. You've been wearing those other clothes for a couple of days now..." he explains himself, but feels a bit worse for it when he sees her expression change to shoot him a glare. He knows she's only pretending to be annoyed at his comment – after all, it was true – but still. He preferred giving her compliments, really, so that she would look at him the way she did when he told her she beautiful. But then that ran the risk of pushing things too far.

"I have an idea," she says, "Why don't you go and buy me a new dress, and some nice shoes, and I'll order room service, and when you get back, we can eat, I can change, and we can go gamble away the rest of my winnings from yesterday?"

"Good idea. Wait. Hang on, why do I have to go buy you a dress??"

"Because I can't go shopping in this dressing gown, however good it smells, and I'm not putting my other clothes back on now."

"Oh. But...where even _is_ there a shop I can buy one? And the shop will be full of women. They'll look at me...weirdly. They might even _slap _me," the Doctor says, looking genuinely fearful.

"Doctor, you look hard enough, you'll find one. And don't worry. This is _Vegas. _Most of the women aren't really women anyway. They'll just think you're gonna play dress up. It's fine -" she assures him, then laughs at his look of horror.

"Don't ever say that. Ever again."

"So you're telling me you've never worn women's clothing? Even as a joke? Or to save a few lives?"

"Of course I haven't. I'm a _Time Lord."_

She doubles over laughing at the dignified stance he's just adopted.

"Please?" she says, batting her eyelashes.

Baring in mind he's still laying pretty much on top of her, the Doctor knew he had lost this argument a few minutes back. He'd do anything for her. He didn't even mind going _shopping _for her. And that's something he thought he would never say. The truth was, he rather like their present situation, and couldn't be bothered to get up. So he had dragged the conversation out.

However, aware that he'd probably whined as much as he could before she would start to hate him for it, he gave up.

"Fine! Fine. Cor, the things I do for you..." he huffs and puffs exaggeratedly, heaving himself off of her and making his way to the hotel room door.

"Don't be too long," she calls after him.

"I'll be back as soon as possible, don't you worry about that."

And with that, he leaves in search of a pretty dress for his plucky Rose Tyler.

Rose lies down on the bed. Her heart still hasn't regulated to its normal beat. This is what he does to her. And he doesn't even know it.

She reaches over for the telephone and orders rather a lot of food from the hotel restaurant. She also orders some wine. For later.


	10. Truth or Dare?

**Chapter 10 – Truth or Dare?**

By the time he arrives back at the hotel room, Rose has made her way through most of the food.

"Ahh, that's nice. I go out and spend a _fortune _on a dress for you, and you sit here stuffing your face and don't even leave anything for me," he says, playing at being annoyed.

"Yeah, well you were a long time. It was getting cold...Can I see it?" she replies excitedly, holding out her hands for the bag the Doctor was carrying.

"Of course."

Rose snatches the bag out of his hands and takes out the dress. She gasps. It was beautiful! She loved this era of fashion, and she was so thrilled that the Doctor had the sense to let her dress in the style of the time. And then she looks at the shoes and her heart melts again.

"It's lovely! They're gorgeous! Thankyou!" she says, and she leans up and kisses his cheek. He grasps her arms as she does so, slipping his hands past the sleeves of her dressing gown, and when she pulls back, he doesn't let them drop to her sides. Instead, he strokes his fingers against her soft skin as he speaks.

"So, what do you want to do now? Down to the casinos?"

"Yes please," Rose replies, nodding, "I'm gonna show you how it's done!"

"Yeah, right..." he laughs, and releases her arms so she can change into her dress.

"I'll be back in a mo."

The Doctor stares after her a moment, then moves over to the bed to nibble at the remainder of her meal.

When she steps back out, the Doctor forgets how to breathe. She looks beautiful. And he thinks he should tell her so.

So he does.

"You look beautiful."

And this time, there is no disbelieving reply: 'For a human?'

She simply smiles.

"Thankyou."

She loops her arm through his, grabs the bottle of wine she ordered from room service, and they make their way to the casino to fritter some money away.

*******

During the course of the evening, the Doctor and Rose manage to win quite a bit of money...only to lose it all on his _very _misplaced luck whilst playing blackjack. But they don't care.

They spend their time chatting to various interesting people, laughing and teasing and drinking a little. After a while, they move away from the crowds and the gambling. And they share the bottle of wine. Which appears to have multiplied into several.

"I love peanuts," the Doctor says, filling his mouth with a handful.

"Eugh, no, they're dis...dis...disgusting," replies Rose, trying to stay coherent.

They are sitting in a little alcove in the bar they'd been drinking in for a bit. She leans her head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders. He chuckles a bit at her drunkenness.

"Not as good as bananas, though. Bananas are good. They are now the Earth's most popular fruit, having recently taking over apples. _And _they are the third most bought item in supermarkets right across the World, after petrol and lottery tickets. Bet you didn't know that! Yep, bananas are the best. They're my favourite. Did I ever tell you about the time I -"

"Yep," interrupts Rose.

"Oh." He sighs. "What's your favourite food?"

"Chocolate."

"Ahh, yes of course: the generic female answer, the universe over."

"Well, it is- " she hiccups, "-tasty."

"Yep!" he agrees, popping the 'p.'

He pulls her closer.

"Wanna play a game?" she asks.

He considers this. Really, they've been playing games all night, and not just literally. They'd been flirting a lot. He thinks it's because she's a bit drunk, and got a bit more confident with it. _He_ can't use that as an excuse, though. Time Lords don't get drunk.

"Ok," he decides.

"Truth or dare?" asks Rose.

And really, what a question. What a dangerous question. She was a drunk human female, and this game could have serious repercussions. But he doesn't care.

"Truth."

He realises this could be risky ground. He's rather secretive, as a rule, and she could ask him anything, and it could be uncomfortable. About his past, about his home, about his feelings for her. And he would tell her, now, because she's Rose. But because she's Rose, he knows she wouldn't even ask.

"What's your favourite Disney movie?" she asks. She wants to ask him something else entirely, but she wouldn't do that. She doesn't feel she has the right to ask him stuff about his past, stuff that it might hurt him to talk about.

"Ooh, now there's a question. Um, I think it would have to be...oh, I know! The Lion King!"

Rose laughs, "Me too. Your turn."

"Truth or Dare, Rose Tyler?"

"Truth."

"Erm....do you...aha, I know! Who is the most impressive, good-looking, sexy..." he winks at her, and she remembers the first time he did that, back on the Sycorax ship, when she was still adjusting to the changed him... "...intelligent, brave, time-travelling gentleman you have ever met?" he waggles his eyebrows at her.

"Erm...hmmm....let me think...Cor that's a hard one. Um, I think I'd have to say...Captain Jack Harkness."

The Doctor gives her a look of utter contempt.

She winks at him.

"Captain envy?" she asks, all innocently.

" Weellll. Nothing to envy, really. He's hardly a time-traveller. And he's certainly not a gentleman."

"Oh, I _know_," Rose can't resist adding in suggestively. The Doctor looks alarmed.

"What?" he screeches, then sees the mirth in her eyes, and decides she's just teasing him. He doesn't quite know why he reacted like that, though. Time Lords don't get jealous or anything. "Alright. I'll alter the question slightly. Who is the most impressive, good-looking, sexy, intelligent, brave, time-travelling _alien_, you've ever met?"

"Ah, well, that's easy. It has to be that lovely chap we met in that pub on that planet of the wishing wells or whatever it was. What was his name? Oh yeah. Rodrigo. He was nice," she says, feigning indifference at the look he was currently shooting her way. Seriously, if looks could _kill..._

"Thanks a lot. Save your life, take you away from the mundane necessities of human life like a job and... and _bus_ travel... show you the universe..." he mutters, "Not to mention give you the snog of your life," she blushes bright red at this, and he suppresses a smile, "And you're still not happy. All bloody _Rodrigo _did was buy you an ice cream. The best in the universe, admittedly, but anyone could've done that. Only _I_ could let you travel in the last TARDIS in existence. I even let you _drive_ the TARDIS if you've been particularly nice..." he rambles, pretending to be extremely insulted.

"Yeah, well, you will ask stupid questions."

"There's no such thing as a stupid question, Rose."

"You only asked it cos you think so much of yourself – I didn't need to answer and enlarge your ego any further..."

"So it's me, then?"

"Of course. Right, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Ok...er...right, I don't know if you're gonna wanna answer this, but I'm drunk so at least I have an excuse for asking, right? Ok. How many times have you done this?"

"Done what?" He's puzzled.

"Been so...close to one of your companions? Kissed them so...frequently? It's just that, you said, earlier, that you'd never felt this way before..." she trails off, embarrassed at her assumptions, scared of his reply. She was perhaps taking advantage of the fact they'd both been drinking, as she never would have asked him this otherwise, and he certainly would never answer her.

"Um...well, I suppose sort of...never, really. I have..._rules_ about these things. Keep my distance, you know? Don't get too attached. And it was easy, before, but now..." he goes quiet.

Her breathing speeds up.

"Now?"

"Now I don't know what to do. Cos you, _you, Rose Tyler,_ have come along and made me want to..." he trails off once again, unsure of whether to tell her the truth or not.

"To...?"

"To break the rules."

The truth, then.

"Right. Huh. Well. That's...good?" she stumbles over her words. She doesn't quite know where this conversation is going. The Doctor's never been so honest and straightforward with her before. Not that this...thing, whatever it was between them, is straightforward. Quite the opposite, it seems.

The Doctor stays silent for a moment.

"I don't know," he eventually replies, letting out a sigh, "I just don't know."

Because he genuinely doesn't have a clue what should happen next. He doesn't want to lose her. And if he loves her - or rather, as it's too late for that - if he _makes_ love to her...he may make promises to her that he cannot keep. And things will get so difficult when she leaves.

Rose sobers up a bit.

"Ok. Right, your turn to ask me," she says, shocking him with her acceptance of his reply, and her rapid topic shift. She probably won't even remember this, he rationalises – she's pretty drunk. Everything will be fine.

"Truth or Dare?" he asks her.

"Dare..."

"Ooh, she likes to live dangerously," he says. He contemplates daring her to kiss him. But he knows that wouldn't help things. But just one kiss? They could do that, right? And it wouldn't have to mean anything; it's just part of the game.

He looks at her looking at him expectantly, waiting for her challenge.

No.

"Right...I dare you to... to go over to that man, over there, wearing the, erm, pink cowboy hat – why is wearing that? It really doesn't suit him. Anyway, go up and ask him what his favourite...let me see... ask him what his favourite..._cheese_ is."

"Cheese?"

"Cheese."

"That's a bit random."

"That's the point. Anyway, you can tell a lot about someone by their taste in cheese. It'll be fun to see what he says."

"Really? Well, I like a nice chunk of mature cheddar. What does that say about me?"

"Weeellll, er...it says you are very...brave. Yes, it means you are brave."

"Brave? Really? Cos cheddar's not exactly the most adventurous of cheeses, I mean, it's not as strong as - "

"Just do the dare, Rose."

"Ok..."

She walks up to the guy in question, while the Doctor watches from their little booth.

And he doesn't like what he sees.

Rose evidently asks the man the obscure question, a question only the Doctor would think of, as he raises his eyebrows in surprise. But then he leans forward and whispers something in Rose's ear, and she blushes beetroot. He then grabs her hand and twirls her around so quickly that she stumbles and falls into his arms.

The Doctor doesn't quite understand why, but he suddenly feels very, very sick.

And Rose is giggling in this other guy's arms, and the Doctor realises.

He's jealous. He clenches his jaw and grips the edge of his seat. The pink cowboy hat guy slides his hands down Rose's back, coming to rest over her bum.

Very jealous. The Doctor's eyes pop out of their sockets. She asked the man about _cheese _for goodness sake! Why, _why_, is he..._groping _her? Even the Doctor doesn't risk doing that, and she's his - and with some of the things she's said to _him..._he changes the direction of his thought halfway through it being thought.

Luckily, Rose seems to be thinking along the same lines, for just as the Doctor is about to bound right over and give the guy what for, she shakes her head and pulls his hands off of her. But the stupid man puts them right back. And that's all it takes.

The Doctor jumps up and marches over to them.

"Excuse me, but I think you've got your hands somewhere upon Rose's anatomy where they are most certainly not wanted," he says, gritting his teeth trying to stay calm.

Rose is amused and somewhat pleased to see the Doctor looking so...possessive.

"What's it to ya, huh?" asks the man.

"She's with me," he says confidently, as if it's obvious.

"I'm with him," she declares, at the exact same time.

"Well, not no more. Maybe ya shoulda danced with her when ya had the chance. She's here with me, now. Sugar, would ya really pick this guy when ya could have _me?" _

"Firstly, I ain't no one's _sugar. _And secondly, yes," she states firmly, trying to wriggle away.

"Why's that then?"

"Because I -" they both begin to say, then stop abruptly, avoiding eye contact with each other.

"Because she belongs with me," the Doctor says instead, and with that, he pulls Rose away, and links his hand with hers, the pink cowboy hat wearer looking on in frustration at losing his pretty blonde doll to some jealous freak in a pinstripe suit.

"Right, I now know not to dare you to do anything that requires a conversation with another man from now on. _Cheese, _Rose. Blimey, you're good," he whispers in her ear as they walk back to their seats.

"Oh, I've got the moves but I wouldn't want to boast," she says, echoing his words from long ago, when he was a different man. The Doctor smiles. She continues, "He did seem to find it a turn-on, didn't he? Who knew you could think of such great pick-up lines, eh Doctor?"

"Oh, I am the master of pick-up lines, actually. Got millions of them all stored in here -," he taps his head, "- ready to be used."

"Ready to be used? On whom?" she asks, and curses her voice for sounding so bothered and possessive about it.

"Weeellll. No one, really. Or anyone," he winks at her, "Or you."

She laughs because she knows he's just joking. Except she also knows that perhaps he isn't. Either way, she'd love to hear him have a go at using one on her. She thinks it would be nothing short of hilarious, but very endearing.

"I'll look forward to it," she replies, and he grins, though he knows she's a bit drunk, so she doesn't mean it. Except he knows she does. "Right," she continues, "Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I um...I dare you to...to..." she lifts up the bottle of ketchup that's on the table, "I dare you to drink this. All of it."

"All of it?"

"All of it."

He sniffs. He can do that.

"Easy."

And he unscrews the lid, and starts to gulp it down.

He gets about a third of the way through, with Rose watching in both awe and repulsion, when she can't take it anymore.

"Stop, stop! That's disgusting. Trust you. I knew I should have made it more of a challenge..."

"How could you make drinking ketchup more difficult?"

"Normal people wouldn't like it full stop. But with you...oh I don't know... by making you lick it off of..."

Me, she thinks. "Something else," she says.

"Like what? The table? Y'know I'd lick anything, really, Rose; we've had this discussion..."

She mutters something under her breath.

"...so perhaps stuff to do with food isn't a very challenging dare for me...Hang on. What?"

"What?" she repeats.

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing," she says quickly, but blushes bright red, as red as the ketchup, in fact.

"Righhht," he says, disbelieving, because he's convinced that she said...never mind. He decides to save her from any more embarrassment, so doesn't pursue the matter any further. "So, Rose, next one for you. Truth or Dare?"

"Truth," she says, huddling up against him.

"Right. Rose Tyler...do you, no...what's your..." he pauses, noticing something odd, "...wait a sec, are you wearing underwear?"

Rose thinks she may be about to faint from shock. She chokes on her wine, and it spills down her dress. And the Doctor can't help but notice there is now a trail of wine leisurely drifting down her chest towards her cleavage. He averts his eyes.

"_What?" _she asks, because she can hardly speak, "What kind of question's that?"

The Doctor realises his mistake. He hadn't actually meant that to be the question. It's just that as she just huddled up against him she got up slightly to straighten her dress, just as he put his arm around her. He'd consequently ended up having his hand in a rather precarious position, from which he could tell that she wasn't....you know...and he just said the first thing that came into his mind at the time. He thinks she must've ignored his hand, as a simple mistake – which it most definitely was – but that accompanied with the rather odd question...things could be about to get awkward.

He scratches behind his ear nervously.

"Erm, sorry, I know that was a bit...rude. That wasn't actually your 'truth' question, that was just me asking..." he caught the look on her face, "...nonono, that's not what it was meant to sound like. What I mean is, you weren't supposed to hear that. I wasn't supposed to say it out loud. Or in my head. Or at all, really. In any way, shape or form. Just ignore it. Forget I said anything...anyway, erm, where were we?"

"No."

"Listen, please just let's forget it, yeah? You know I wouldn't mean to ask that, really...Back to the game..."

"No, I mean 'no' – as in, the answer to your question. I'm not." She didn't quite know why she was admitting this, but suspected it was to do with the fact that she'd had a _little _too much wine. And vodka. Ooh, and those pink cocktails with the swirly umbrellas that she kept on insisting the Doctor should buy for her.

His mouth goes dry. For once, he is rendered utterly speechless. And very, very fascinated. But he knows she's only saying it because she's consumed too much alcohol.

"Erm..." he begins.

"It's because of the change in outfit, you know – you bought me a new dress, and some lovely new heels," she lifts her legs up in front of her to show her footwear off. Seeing Rose's lovely toned legs as the skirts of her dress hitched up a bit were by no means the best thing for the Doctor to be staring at now, when he was trying to keep focus; trying to keep from snogging her senseless. "...but no new underwear...." she trails off. The Doctor feels a bit faint. They've never had _this _sort of conversation before.

"Ah, yes of course. Right." He looks her up and down, very slowly, for a few seconds.

"Doctor?"

"Hmmm...?" he says, clearly distracted by his examination of her body – dress! Examination of her nice, new _dress, _he tells himself firmly.

"Back to the game?"

"Back to the game," he nods his head quickly, taking a deep breath, "So...I know a good question: what's been your favourite adventure that we've had so far?"

"Oh god that's too hard. I don't know. Everything. Christmas in Cardiff. The Blitz with Captain Jack. Christmas in London. Applegrass. Mauve Mountains of Morii. Everything. As long as it's with you, it's always fantastic."

That's how she feels about it all. She loves what he shows her – the universe, either in all its glory, in all its darkness. But it would mean nothing if he wasn't the man showing it to her.

The Doctor smiles, and pulls her in for a hug. He brushes his lips across the top of her head and feels her breath on his neck catch. He loves this. Being with her. Seeing it all with her. He has the keys to the great wonders of the universe, but it would mean nothing if he didn't have her to share it all with. Better with two. He wonders how he'll feel when she's gone. Lost. Alone. Bored. Empty.

He shudders. That's exactly why he can't let things get too...complicated, isn't it?

"Your turn," he whispers in her ear.

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

And she decides its time.

She asks the question she's wanted to all night – all _year - _

"Erm...have you ever...wished that you could maybe...change something...possibly for the better, maybe for the worse, but...you're too scared?"

He stiffens, but doesn't pull out of their most-definitely-more-than-just-good-friends cuddle. He holds her a bit tighter, his fingers drawing patterns on her back.

"Yes," he barely says, so quiet she could have missed it if he mouth wasn't so close to her ear, his breath blowing strands of her hair, making her skin tingle.

"Oh. What did you do?"

"I haven't done anything yet," he replies softly.

She takes in what he just said. She still realises he's had a bit too much to drink. He's provided her with an awful lot of revelations tonight, which he never would have done had he been completely sober. But then, a drunk mans' words are a sober mans' thoughts, right?

Her breath hitches once more.

"Oh," is all she can say. And then – "What will you do?"

"I'm not sure. I just don't know, remember? Maybe...this...?" he says pulling away, only to tenderly grasp the sides of her face in his hands, and his head gravitates towards her again - so, so slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wants to, though he knows, deep down, that she won't.

Her questions are finally answered. So are his.

He gently presses his lips to hers, and time stops once more.


	11. Well, That's One Thing To Do In A Lift

**Chapter 11 – Well, That's One Thing To Do In A Lift**

After about half an hour of kissing Rose Tyler, the Doctor decided it was time to go someplace else. Somewhere more private. He stood up, and for an instant she looked a little confused, but then he held out his hand and smiled a gentle smile. She stood up beside him, and they walked out of the bar, hand-in-hand.

The Doctor didn't know where he was walking; for once, the Time Lord had lost all sense of direction and time, wrapped up in a delicious bubble with Rose Tyler. And it was brilliant. Rose tugged on his sleeve and he turned around to see what she was looking at. She obviously wants to go take a look, but if he's honest, he'd rather just take her more somewhere quiet, where they could be alone.

So he could tell her.

Then again, it did look like there were some banana daiquiris over there...She grinned at him, and he grinned back. Rose had spotted a showbiz party. Time to whip out the old psychic paper he thinks...

*******

They were having a lot of fun. They'd lost all their money, sneaked into a party, stolen a few banana daiquiris, eaten a couple of pizzas and _that_ was when they got_ totally_ and utterly inebriated. They'd fallen out with a drag queen, almost got run over by a limo, walked past the Little White Chapel - got hit in the head by a bouquet and contemplated going in themselves, actually, just for the fun of it. They didn't, of course. But the point was: they were having a grand old time of it, content to be in each other's company and not a care in the world. They'd even forgotten about going to see Elvis!

They were now in the lift in their hotel, and, having missed the stop on the first floor, were travelling upwards, going somewhere they had no need to. But they didn't care. Rose was leaning on the Doctor, struggling to stand up straight in her intoxicated state. She couldn't believe he had let her get like this, actually. Mind you, he was as bad as she was.

"And then I said to him," he hiccups, "I said to him...Hang on. Rose, why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're soooo drunk..." taunts Rose.

"Rose, Time Lords don't get _drunk_."

"But you are – maybe you're the hex.._ex_ - ception. You always breakin' the...erm..."

"Rules? Yep, that's me. But Rose, I think you'll find that you're the one who's drunk. Not me."

"We've had hexxactly the same alcohol hintake. And you're not... you're not walking in a straight line. You're _definitely_ a _wee_ bit tipsy."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Am not."

"Are too...damn. Don't tri –" he hiccups again, "-ick me like that, Rose Tyler. It's very childish."

"See, you must be drunk, if you're falling for that old trick."

"Weeelll...." he tugs on his ear, then notices something odd, "Ooh look, Rose, a pineapple. What's a pineapple doing sitting in a lift?"

"Er...I think you brought that in here with us..."

"Did I? What'd I do that for?"

"Dunno. Because you're drunk? People do silly things when they're drunk."

"Ohhh. Silly things, eh? Like bringing a pineapple into a lift. Like jumping on that heart-shaped hedge outside – that really wasn't a good idea, Rose, you scared that poor cat to death. But what's a cat doing in Las Vegas anyway? That's pretty silly. What else... oh, like stealing a giant-size bottle of champagne from that party and emptying it into the water fountain? That was quite silly. We shouldn't have done that."

"Yep! All pretty crazy stuff," she replies sarcastically.

"Hmmm. Like this..." he pulls her to him abruptly and kisses her, right there in the middle of the lift. She's shocked, but nevertheless responds passionately, and then he's pressing her up against the wall of the lift, "...like this?" he repeats, speaking softly against her lips, and she can't believe what he's doing and now she knows he's _really _drunk and his hands on her waist and her legs up wrapped around his hips and - oh! - it's delightful.

"Well, this is one thing to do in a lift. But I don't think it's silly," she whispers against his mouth when he pulls back a centimetre to let her catch her breath.

"Oh, it is. It really is," he murmurs, his breath mingling with hers, as he knows what's going to happen next.

The lift stops, still not at their floor, somewhere in the fifteenth region, and a middle-aged woman wearing far less clothes than she should to be deemed respectable, at her age, gets in with them. She tuts as she sees their position, as if she has the moral high-ground, wearing _that _skirt and _those _shoes, thinks Rose; she knows it's the '70s but still. Nevertheless, Rose releases her grasp on the Doctor, and stands up straight, turning them both around. It's then that she realises what the Doctor means.

In their haste and, er...passion, he had pushed her up against the panel of buttons, and now every single one was illuminated. Looks like they'll be in here a long time, stopping at every other floor except the first, which was where their room was, she thought. Once the other woman in the lift notices this, she tuts again, more obviously, and mutters something about young kids and their utter disregard for other people, and how these public displays of affection shouldn't be tolerated. The Doctor snorts at this, for he is far from being a 'young kid,' and he thinks if she is thinking that when the city they are located in is _Las Vegas_, people aren't gonna do...this...then she is completely naive, and very inappropriately dressed.

Rose simply mutters something back about mutton dressed as lamb. The woman glares at her, and gets out at the next floor.

As the door closes again, Rose and the Doctor look at each other out of the corners of their eyes and begin to laugh. Soon, they're clutching their sides and almost on the floor, and various lift-users come and go as the lift goes up and down, down and up, staring at the drunken couple quizzically. This is not something Rose had ever imagined she would do with the Doctor, and she giggles helplessly at the entire bizarreness of the situation.

By the time they do reach the 1st floor, the Doctor is sitting on the ground with Rose half in his lap, and he is insisting that he'd rather be a dog with no nose than a cat nurse nun. He heaves himself up off the floor, with Rose in his arms, just like the previous day, when he carried her over the threshold of their hotel room for the first time. He steps out into the corridor, Rose burying her face into his neck, laughing softly.

And, he muses, life is good.

And then he falls over. Evidently, a drunken Time Lord carrying a very, very drunk human being more than a few metres is utterly, _absolutely_, impossible. No matter how much he liked the impossible. The pair of them stand back up, dust themselves down, and attempt to look dignified. They don't; they are both stumbling over their feet and bumping into each other, but it doesn't matter, because no one can see them. Rose giggles all the way to the door, and the Doctor once again fumbles for the key.

They bundle into the room and both collapse beside each other on the bed. Rose curls into him, his arms wrap around her once more, and she falls asleep almost instantly, the effect of the alcohol and the night's exhausting, and somewhat surprising, activities - but not before giving him a goodnight kiss to remember.

She threads her hands through his hair and squashes their lips together with passionate force, and when he gasps in surprise, she takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into his mouth. Then she pulls back suddenly, and lets him go, and he's left hanging.

But then, for the first time in a long, long time, the Doctor is content enough to fall asleep; right beside her. The woman he loves. The woman he's broken the rules for. And it's brilliant.

Yes, life is very good.

But it's about to get better. Because they've got one more rule to break.


	12. Cuppa in the Library

**Chapter 12 – Cuppa in the Library**

Rose wakes up to find she has a horrific headache. But she doesn't mind this so much, as she also finds she's got a certain Time Lord's arm draped across her waist and her legs are wrapped up in his, which has never happened when waking from any of her previous hangovers. She turns over onto her side to face him and watches him sleeping as she tries to recollect what happened the previous night. She was aware that there had been a lot of drinking involved. And plenty of gambling. Oh, and Truth or Dare. Ah. What did she do? Something about cheese...and...er...ketchup? She can't remember much else. She wonders if the Doctor will.

He's eyes flutter open, and he looks disoriented a moment – he's not used to sleeping, or waking up with Rose staring at him intently. He smiles, then grimaces as the pain sets in.

"Arghh. What did we _drink _last night?" he asks his companion.

"Too much. Far, far too much. Why'd you let me get like that that?"

"Do you remember anything? What did we do?"

"I think we played a game of Truth or Dare, and then crashed a few parties. I remember a conversation about bananas. And cheese. But I've never been so drunk in all my life, and the rest is a blur. In fact, we drank so much I don't reckon it's gonna be out of our systems for a few days. I'm probably still a bit drunk now. My head is killing me."

"Hmmm. I think you need a Doctor," he replies, smiling softly at the memory.

"That was our first kiss," she comments nonchalantly.

"You remember that?"

"Well, no, actually. I just sort of dreamt it. I didn't wanna say anything, in case it hadn't really happened. But thanks for confirming it did. Shame I can't remember it, though."

"You dreamt of me kissing you?"

"Yeah... a few times actually," she admits, "Including just now – oh!" she exclaims with a start as she remembers, "Last night...the bar! The _lift! _Do you remember that??"

"Admit nothing, deny everything and make counter-accusations. That's my motto. So, no. No idea what you're talking about. Didn't do anything. Nothing to do with me. Must have been something you did, Rose Tyler," he replies cautiously.

"You...er...we...um...again...oh God. There was lots of snogging. And...revelations."

"Oh yes. That's right," he stares into her eyes.

"We were drunk," she says, whether it's just a statement or an explanation she's not sure.

"Yep."

"You said something about not...er...what was it? What did you say?"

"I don't know," he lies. He then realises that _that_ is exactly what he did say.

"Ohhh, yeah, you said that you didn't know what to do...that sort of thing. What was that about? Oh! You haven't...felt this way before? But then you...well, you kissed me. A lot. Doctor...was that just the drink talking?"

"I do believe a bit of that was actually said before I'd consumed half the alcohol in Las Vegas, while we were in this very room. With you, standing by that door, all...wet," his voice quivers a little as his mind wanders back to the previous day, "So, no. It wasn't just the drink talking."

"Ok. Well, um, that's good."

"Is it?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Ok. Good."

"Good."

They continue to lie there, on their sides, looking into each other's eyes, wondering how to play this. Who would make the next move?

She decides to leave it up to him, what they should do next. She doesn't want to push him too far.

Suddenly, the Doctor jumps up off the bed, and realises that's probably not the best thing to do with a hangover, as he suddenly feels very dizzy. Nevertheless he stays standing where he is, and tells Rose he is going to go get them some coffee. He walks out of the room briskly, and Rose wonders if he's going to come back. It seems to her like he's running away from something. From them. Again.

*******

After he has returned and they've drunk their coffee, Rose starts to feel a little bit better, and they decide to go home. Back to the TARDIS. Hand-in-hand.

It's a long walk, but it's worth it. He's carrying the shopping bag from when he bought her the dress, which now contains Rose's other clothes and boots. She's still wearing the lovely dress and heels, and twirls around a few times as they walk, her skirts fanning out. The Doctor briefly worries that she will end up revealing a little too much, spinning around like that, but he decides that if that were to happen, it would just be a fact of life, and they would both have to get past it. He shivers involuntarily.

Her feet are aching and her head still hurts a bit, so she contemplates asking the Doctor for a piggyback the rest of the way, but then she sees the little blue box just a little way ahead and decides she can make it.

She uses one hand to unlock the TARDIS door with practiced ease, keeping her other firmly in his, and they both breathe a sigh of relief as they enter. Here they were, back in familiar territory. Home. Would things be different here? Now that they were no longer in Vegas anymore? What would happen next?

He looks around the console room and smiles. That smile turns into a frown as he looks at the spot where Rose and he had been, quite literally, rolling around on the floor a little while ago. Before Vegas. So what would happen now? They can't exactly blame what happened between them on the city, as they had been doing a very similar thing right here in the TARDIS. Somehow the old phrase 'what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas' doesn't really apply here, to them. But he doesn't know what his next move in this game should be.

Time for a nice cup of tea, he thinks. That will solve the problem. It always does. Much better than alcohol. He grabs Rose's hand and drags her to the kitchen, proclaiming exactly that.

They make some toast and tea and go and sit in the library. He lays one of the sofas. She lies with him, still wearing her flouncy pink dress, tucked into his side, his arm wrapped tightly around her; her head on his chest and his hand in hers. Drinking tea and getting toast crumbs everywhere. Just like usual. And just like usual, there's a spark of something in the air, and Rose can feel it, and the Doctor can feel it, and they both ignore it, just like they always do. Because they are in each other's arms, huddled close, and at the moment, they are just friends, despite all that had happened before. However, neither one of them wants to ignore it anymore.

This was something they did after every adventure: have a cuppa, cuddle in the library, read bits of each other's books to one another. He suddenly becomes conscious of how incredibly domestic they'd become, without him even realising. And it doesn't alarm him as much as he thought it would have, before. The two of them had crossed more boundaries since his regeneration, and he suspects that she loved this part of the new him: more relaxed, more open to shows of affection, domesticities and all that jazz. They had brilliant adventures - fantastic, _dangerous _adventures - _that_ had never changed, and never ever would. But now, at the end of them, instead of going off to their separate rooms – her to sleep, him to brood – they spent every moment together, either in here, or the kitchen, or the many, many other rooms on board the TARDIS. Except for their bedrooms, of course. And he loved it.

"Doctor?" Rose says, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Yes, Rose?" he replies.

"We...we never got to see Elvis."

"Oh. Oh yeah. Weeellll, I guess we were...erm...busy. Distracted. Distracted by the banana daiquiris!" he says, "We could go back, if you want."

"Nah, it's ok. Maybe another time."

"Ok. Reckon we'll go a bit earlier next time, late fifties or something rather than the Vegas era. That's the best - " he stops when he realises Rose has drifted off on his chest. He contemplates moving her so he can get up and go tinker with something on the TARDIS, because he knows he probably won't be able to wake her up now she's out for the count. But then, he decides, he rather likes just lying here; her body is comforting and warm against his, and he likes the feel of her hair tickling his chin. He gently drops a kiss on the top of her head, and she snuggles against him, her cup almost falling out of her hands. He removes it and places it on the table next to them, and as his fingers brush hers she stirs awake, and blinks rapidly.

"Woah. Did I fall asleep? I keep doing that. Sorry."

"Quite alright. You humans have got an inferior -"

"You were probably boring me," she interrupts, so she can deal the insult rather than receive it this time. She turns her head a bit and smiles up at him, her tongue poking out between her teeth.

"Right, you," he wags a finger at her, "You can't insult me. I'll have you know, I once represe- "

"Whatever," she interrupts again, and laughs at his indignant expression.

"And you can stop interup - "

"You know what? I don't think I want to. This is lots more fun."

"Yeah, well, you say that, but you ought to know better than to argue with your - "

"Designated driver?" she finishes.

"Hmmm. Exactly," he eyes her suspiciously.

"Sometimes I think that you pretend to be all insulted, but really you're just - "

"Happy to have someone to insult me so that I can prove that I'm actually _very _impressive?"

"You took the words right out of my mouth," she proclaims, giggling lightly. She wonders if finishing each other's sentences is a bit too domestic for the Doctor. Her gaze lowers to his lips. She also wonders whether he would find her kissing him again far too domestic. He hasn't mentioned anything about before, yet. Maybe what happens in Vegas really does stay in Vegas, she thinks disappointedly. She wants him to take her somewhere. Somewhere unfamiliar where she can push things further without it being awkward if he rejected her. Because if things happened in the TARDIS, he wouldn't be able to run away; they'd be forced to be with each other. And that might hurt.

Then again, maybe it would be a good thing.

"Yeah, well, you are very predictable. For instance, I know what you're thinking right now," he boasts, eying her wistful expression.

He looks like he knows she wants to kiss him. He's got an eyebrow raised and he's looking at her lips. He looks like he wants to kiss her too, actually.

"Oh yeah? Go on then. Impress me."

"You were thinking that you'd like to..." kiss me, he thinks, "Visit somewhere new," he says.

Well, he was sort of right.

"Yeah. You know me too well," she says. But obviously not enough, she adds inside her head.

"Come on then!" he exclaims, leaping off the sofa and bringing her up with him, "To the console room!"

And here they go again.


	13. Like Any Other Couple

**Chapter 13 – Like Any Other Couple?**

They land on the console room floor with a crash as the TARDIS makes an unsteady landing. They laugh as they help each other up and, as they walk towards the TARDIS doors to see the world beyond – a world which the Doctor claims has '_magnificent_...sort of natural fireworks, truly the best in the _universe' –_ his arm remains firmly around her waist. She has changed out of her dress and into a red vest top with a checked shirt unbuttoned over it, and she's wearing her denim mini skirt and sensible pumps. Her wavy hair frames her face, and she looks beautiful. He's somewhat disappointed that the pink dress – and the lack of anything else, as he remembers oh-so-clearly – have gone, but she still looks beautiful. Maybe she will wear the dress again someday, when he attempts to take her to see Elvis again.

Rose opens the doors and gasps. The landscape of this planet – what was it called again? She was performing a rapid costume change while he was informing her of its name and attributes, and with him just outside her bedroom door, waiting impatiently, she got all flustered and wasn't really listening. At one point, he had stepped into the room, _claiming _to have knocked –she knows full well he never did – to see her pull her vest top over head just in time (unfortunately, in his opinion. But he would never ever tell her that.) Well, anyway, the planet, whatever it was called, is breathtaking; it's night-time, and the stars, so many stars, are shining down on the rolling hills – that are a deep shade of red, she notices in the dim light – and a gentle hum of a song lingers in the air...and she wants to run out into it and sing _'The hills are alive with the sound of music...'_ at the top of her voice.

So she does, which earns a rather amused laugh from the Doctor. He never realised she could sing...

He runs after her, and his arm finds her waist again, and hers finds his. They amble up the hill, and when they reach the top, he explains to her that tonight, on planet Lumen – Lumen! that was it – the people had gathered to watch the most spectacular light show in the universe. A natural phenomenon of a light show that only happens every 31 million years. So, naturally, even Rose is a little gobsmacked at the _amount _people that have congregated there. It reminds her of when her and Shareen had gone along to that open air concert that time, to find it was packed full of people, not standing but sitting on the grass, waving their lighters in the air, arms around their loved ones. Here was much the same, only on a much bigger scale. And about to watch something _way _bigger than some cheesy boy band that Rose can't even recollect the name of.

This was how much her life had changed. How much the Doctor had taken every little experience she ever had before him, and matched it, every time. She suspects he kind of does it on purpose, a lot of the time, to take her breath away with a mind-blowing parallel of her memories, making his time with her so much more special, so much more _brilliant. _He loved to impress her, to make her beam with happiness. And she loved that he did.

"Wow," she says, taking in a deep breath, "This is...magical. Thankyou."

"Just you wait 'til you see the sky sparkle, Rose; it's amazing," he replies, and looks around at their surroundings for a moment.

"There's not much space, is there?" she vocalises his thoughts.

"Hmmm, no. Ah! Over there, see, a patch of grass...let's get over there quick before someone else nabs it," he begins to run, pulling her along behind him, and he's dodging in and out and in between all the couples so fast she's sure she won't be able to keep up, and she'll probably end up stepping on someone. But it's fine, because they reach their little area, and everything's fine. Everything's fine when he lays out his coat on the ground, and motions for her to sit down. Everything's fine when he sits down beside her. And everything's very, very fine when he pulls her close, so she fits in his side as if she completes him.

"There's not much space," he tells her, justifying his actions. Not that he needed to. They would've placed themselves in exactly the same position had there been only the two of them lying there, just like they did back on the Mauve Mountains of Morii.

She relaxes into him, breathing in his scent, of time and space and bananas and tea and...her? He smells of her. It's all the hugging they do, she supposes. And the snuggling. And those moments when they are larking around, and he is above her and she is beneath him, and they are playing a game. They keep doing that.

She snuggles closer.

"It's a bit chilly," she offers him as an explanation. Not that she needed to.

He wraps his arms around her. Just to keep her warm, of course.

"Better?" he asks.

"Much," she replies, and it is.

To anyone observing them, the Doctor and Rose would've appeared to be just like any other couple lying there together, wrapped up in each other, talking softly. But they would be wrong. For the Doctor and Rose were so much more than that.


	14. Beautiful

**Chapter 14 – Beautiful**

She wonders if he realises he's doing that thing again, where he draws patterns on her back like ancient symbols, undecipherable. Oh! she suddenly thinks. Perhaps they are ancient symbols; his ancient language, like what's displayed on the console screen...He doesn't talk of it. Never tells her what any of the symbols mean. He doesn't share that kind of nostalgia with her.

She thinks he must not realise.

He does. They are the symbols that represent the words he can never say. Because the words are just nowhere near enough.

She wonders if he realises that one of his hands has moved to the hem of her skirt, and is playing with it gently. He's talking to her about the history of Lumen. An alien planet. Not some film, or food or anything else relatively normal that they would talk about if they were any other couple, lying on green grass on Earth somewhere.

She thinks it would scare him if he realised how comfortable he has become with her, how normal they appear to be, but so very, very not.

It doesn't. He realises. He loves it.

She wonders if he knows that with his every lingering touch, with every time his fingers brush against her bare arms - or the exposed skin at her midriff, where her vest has ridden up slightly – or the way his knuckles sweep across her thigh as he plays with the loose threads of her skirt's hem - she feels a rush of energy course through her veins, a tingling sensation in her stomach and a dizziness she can't seem to shake off.

She thinks he must not realise, or he would not do it.

He does, and he still does it. Because he can't help it. He can restrain himself so far, but he has to touch her in some way; has to allow himself that. As the boundaries continue to break down. And he secretly loves the way he can make her shiver at his touch. It's only fair, really. She does the same to him. But of course, she doesn't know that.

She wonders if he knows his eyes look like they are dark with lust, and his lips are parted, and his breath is shaky. He looks like he wants to kiss her. He looks like he wants to do more than kiss her. He looks like he wants her, just as much as she wants him.

She thinks he doesn't realise that he looks like that. Because he doesn't feel like that about her. He's the Doctor.

But then she looks up into his imploring eyes again, and _she _realises how very wrong she is.

"Rose..." he whispers, "...I - "

And suddenly there's a fountain of light exploding above them: pinks and purples and greens and blues and silvers and golds and hundreds upon hundreds of other colours, many of which Rose had never seen before and could never name. And it was just as the Doctor had said – amazing – and so much more.

But the Doctor and Rose were not watching the once-in-31 million years completely natural, spontaneous firework show.

"Beautiful," the Doctor murmurs.

Rose glances upwards to the night sky, illuminated with the most brilliant tints of every conceivable colour, and more, and she agrees.

"Yeah, it really is," she says softly back to him.

He looks confused for a moment, and then identifies his mistake.

"You're beautiful," he amends, turning her head to face his again, instead of the sky.

Rose forgets how to breathe, let alone speak. Instead, she blushes, and the Doctor wonders why she's suddenly so shy of his words. It's the truth, after all. Oh. Maybe she doesn't think it is.

He has said this before. Several times, actually, in the last few days, but the way he's saying it tonight...Her heart speeds up. It appears to be his adjective of choice to describe her, Rose thinks, and she doesn't see why. Because, she wasn't, really – not compared to all the glorious things he showed her every day. Like the luminosity above them. She's just a council estate shop girl from London, and she's convinced that with all he has seen in his life, he shouldn't regard her as beautiful. Or look at her the way he is looking at her now, with such immense admiration and devotion; as though she is his only desire, his only purpose in life.

And perhaps she is.

But she doesn't think that they will be able to remain like this for much longer. Together but not. She's impatient and frustrated, and she wants him to stop _doing _this: taking her to places where they just lay in each other's arms, pressed against each other, him touching her and touching her but _not..._never taking things in the other direction, the _right _direction. He seems to be able to do it - just accept the snuggling and the kissing; the emotion and the electricity - and then he speaks those words to her that make her melt and she thinks for once he might kiss her and never pull back, but he doesn't, unless he's drunk, because he has such a strong willpower. He can deal with it. He stops himself going too far. And it's ridiculous, really, after all that's happened recently, after New Earth and the werewolf, and the bits in between, where they were crossing that boundary of 'just good friends' into romance, _romance..._and _blimey_, she knows they were drunk, but things were certainly getting passionate in that lift in the hotel...and then he'd pull them back from the brink _just in time_. He'd reveal his feelings, then backtrack and go on as if nothing had happened. And Rose couldn't do it anymore. She's only human, and there's only so much of this to-ing and fro-ing between what they are and what they _nearly_ are that she can take. She wants him to let her love him, let them be together, properly, as it's meant to be.

She needs to tell him.


	15. Something's Happening

**Chapter 15 – Something's Happening**

_She's only human, and there's only so much of this to-ing and fro-ing between what they are and what they nearly are that she can take. She wants him to let her love him, let them be together, properly, as it's meant to be._

_She needs to tell him._

And so does.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Rose?" he replies quietly, still looking at her intently. He's still fiddling with the hem of her skirt, and his knuckles are brush against her leg again.

She struggles to breathe.

She tries to focus.

"I was wondering..." she says. She needs to ask him. She's just not sure whether she'll like the answer.

"Yeah?" the Doctor prompts.

"Where are we going?"

He clears his throat and raises the volume of his voice a little the next time he speaks, sounding much less like he was about to snog her – sexy Doctor - and more like he sounds when he's being all clever Doctor, providing her with a detailed narrative.

"Ah, well, after this, I thought we'd take a little trip to Maieophos next, when you're up for it. In the year 3920. Perfect place, really, if a little dangerous. A lovely little paradise, but they have _very _strict rules, hence why it's dangerous for us, cos we like breaking rules, don't we? Especially you, you're very jeopardy –friendly. You wouldn't be allowed to wear that outfit, for example - you would get into real trouble for _that_...." he's aware that he is babbling now, but nothing can stop him when he gets going, and right now, he needs to talk lots, to distract him from doing other things with his mouth.

Like kissing Rose Tyler.

"Actually..." Rose tries to interject, but to no avail.

"....You look lovely, from my point of view," she looks taken aback at this, and the Doctor briefly marvels at why she's blushing again, "But the Miophi – they're the people who live there, kind of transparent, but a hint of green in colour – anyway, yes, they are very prudish. Which is interesting, considering they actually have the most unusual way of procreating. You see, they take the- "

" – Doctor!...I meant...that sounds great and everything, but I actually meant..." she pauses, still a bit dazed by his compliments that seem to just keep coming her way tonight. She swallows nervously, "...Where are _we _going? As in you and me. Us. Together."

"Weeelll...something's happening," he says quietly, breaking eye contact with her for the first time all night, looking up at the starry sky, in which the light phenomena was fading, appearing deep in thought.

"Yes," she replies, thinking he needn't state the obvious: why can't he just tell her what he wants?

And then it occurs to her. Throughout their trip to Las Vegas, the Doctor had been revealing his feelings to her, albeit through drunkenness, but she hadn't said a word to him about how she felt. Oh, she knew he knew, but she still felt a little sad that she hadn't actually told him.

Time for a change, she thinks.

"Perhaps something's already happened?" he says, as if reading her thoughts.

"Yes." With that, she turns around onto her front, so she is resting her weight on top of him rather than by his side, and she tilts her head, gazing into his eyes again. "Round about a year ago."

"What do you mean?"

"Well. Um...er. Well, that's when it first happened."

"When what first happened?"

She forgets about all the people around them. She leans into his body a bit more, and slides one of her legs between his. He swallows. She absently twirls her fingers in lazy patterns across his chest as she speaks, and he looks at her with an eyebrow raised. She takes a deep breath.

"When I looked at you, babbling away about some planet in the far reaches of the universe, and I thought: 'This man is _crazy_. Absolutely bonkers. And He's an _alien_. He can travel in _time. _And I loveHim.'"

The Doctor inhales roughly. It was over, he realises. The not knowing, the simply assuming. And now he couldn't pretend anymore. But then...she was talking about back when he was a different man, sort of. What if...

"And when I changed?" he asks, his voice croaky, due to the simple fact that Rose was lying on him, and nervous, because he's scared of what her answer will be. Though he already knows, really. He knows she loves him. He knows she thinks he's 'foxy.' But that doesn't quite prepare him for what she says next.

"When you changed, I was scared. I thought the man I fell in love with was dead. But then you swooped in and saved the day, winking and flirting away, with your new eyes and your new _hair _and then you being _so, so _very _you. _And then I knew. The man I fell in love with wasn't dead. He was just slightly different. And then you took me to a place where an Earth lived on, a contradiction to what we saw, so long ago, on our first date, with the first you. And I fell in love with you a little bit more. Just like I do, everyday. Everywhere. Everywhen..." she confesses in one long speech, then looks away, pressing her face into his chest; tears glistening in her eyes, unable to see his face; worried she'd said to much, and yet also, not nearly enough. Oh, life was such a living paradox with him.

"...and this....now this new stuff going on between us...now I can't hide anymore, Doctor. I'm in love with you, Doctor, so passionately_. _And entirely irrevocably," she continues.

The Doctor doesn't know what to say. And that doesn't happen very often. He never thought he'd hear her admit those things, not so openly and in control. Especially not while cuddling him, watching the stars above, in a place so... so busy with other people. Other...not friends, but _couples_. Anyone could see them, and the way she was - very nicely, he must say - pressing herself into him, while professing her love to him. Mind you, it was very dark. And they weren't exactly on Maieophos. He could kiss her, now, and it would be fine, perfectly normal behaviour, because no one would chastise them for it. Well, except himself, and that would just be stupid. He looks around, and acknowledges the way the other couples are just like them. Lying on the grass, watching the sky, snuggled against each other to keep warm. And he sees the way a man strokes his wife's, or girlfriend's or whoever's, hair, brushing it out of her eyes, so that he can kiss her. And he notices that she wraps her arms around the man's neck tightly and returns the kiss. And the pair stays like that, tucked into their embrace, happy. No one to stop them. No universe imploding. No fate to snatch her away. The Doctor wants that. With Rose.

And she wants it too. He knows he has been unfair, really, to keep pushing things into this direction but not quite. It seems that Rose has had enough of him being a coward. An idiot. He couldn't pretend that everything that had happened in the last few days – the kissing, the passion, the emotion – was just down to them and their close friendship. Yeah, they were best friends. But now...

...now, they were more than that. Neither of them could escape it. And he liked that. He _loved _that. But he was still scared. And right now, he had no idea of what to do for the best.

"Rose, I don't know what to say..."


	16. Don't You Dare

**Chapter 16 – Don't You Dare**

"_Rose, I don't know what to say..."_

"You don't have to say anything," she replies, voice breaking a little as a tear slides down her cheek.

He turns her head to face him, and catches the tear with his fingertip.

"Please don't cry, Rose. There's nothing to cry about..."

"I'm not. I'm fine, perfectly fine," she says, because truly, she is, and she doesn't really understand why tears are cascading down her face. She doesn't make a sound; no sobbing, or hiccupping or anything as hysterical like that. She was quite calm, really: just silent tears that perhaps she had been storing up for a bit, that needed to be released. Perhaps she was just hormonal or something.

"...Yeah. Sure you are," he says back sarcastically. He tries to catch each tear as it rolls down her face, but there are too many now.

So instead, he pulls her up his body and aligns her face above his, places his hands either side of her face, and kisses her cheeks, and her chin, and her neck, and anywhere else the tears land, catching them with his lips. She shivers in surprise, but doesn't say anything. She too confused.

"Seriously, there's nothing to cry about..." he repeats.

She looks at him questioningly, but can't really see his expression through her blurry eyes. He finds her hand, and fuses his fingers with hers.

He knows that he can no longer internally ask himself what to do anymore. He just ends up contradicting himself. He wants to have the courage to ask her to help him decide what should be done for the best. What the next move should be.

And he does.

"Tell me what to do, Rose. What should I do?" he strokes a strand of her hair out from her eyes and places it behind her ear, a gesture he's always repeating, just so he can have an excuse to touch her, " Should I let this happen? Should I run aw - "

"- no!" She interrupts. "No. No more running away from this, Doctor. No more dancing around each other."

"But I'm not ...I don't...I don't have the courage to do anything other than run. I'm too much of a coward. I'm scared, Rose -"

"- courage is being afraid but going on and doing it anyway. That's what we do; every single day. You're the bravest person I know, Doctor. How comes this scares you so much?"

"Perhaps bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid, Rose. Right now, I'm not brave. You know I'm afraid. It's just....to _change _things...."

"Change is inevitable, Doctor. Especially with you."

"But don't you get it? I want this. I _really, really _want this. I want things to change. But, the reason I'm so scared is because when you're gone...I can't even bear to think about it. I just...I just can't, I _can't._ I don't want you to ever leave me, Rose Tyler. But you will. Someday. And when that day comes, I will be broken, again, and you won't be there to fix me."

"Doctor, I'm never gonna leave you. Not of my own accord. And nothing in this universe can make me. But I know I'm human, and you're not. I know you will outlive me, by centuries and centuries," she says, and he looks so sad that her heart breaks a little, just watching him full of so much emotion than she ever thought it was possible for him to show. She continues speaking, her voice wavering as she tries to control her emotions, for him.

"But when I'm gone, don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened, Doctor, and it was brilliant. This could be brilliant, Doctor. _We_ could be brilliant. We could be worth smiling about. So don't you dare let the inevitable end stop you from doing this, right here, right now. Don't you _dare_. Or you'll end up crying, yeah. But with regret. And years and years of _frustration_."

He looks at her, at her confidence, and he is in awe of her. She holds such wisdom with her words, and she is so, so young. So much younger than him. And yet he will die long after her.

But he knows what she is saying makes sense. Better to have loved and all that. He knows he should make the most of her, while she's still here – he's convinced himself of that before. He just can't seem to –

She kisses him, and he can't breathe.


	17. Dreaming of the Impossible?

**Chapter 17 – Dreaming of the Impossible?**

_She kisses him, and he can't breathe._

She thinks this is the only way to stop the silence dragging out any longer. She thinks if she can get a reaction out of him – well, a reaction that wasn't complete astonishment accompanied by a far-off look and utter silence – she will know where she stands. For ages now, she's known what's bound to happen:

This. On a repeat cycle. Over and over and over again. Them, getting so close she can barely breathe, only for him to pull back and pretend he was never pressed against her body, never had his lips against hers, his tongue in her mouth. Him, getting all worried, and flustered, and confused. Her, _wishing _he'd just let her love him properly, and love her back.

He indulges, then he regrets. That's his problem, with her. He thinks he can take just a _tiny _bit more, make things go a _tiny_ bit further than 'just good friends' are supposed to, and then he convinces himself that it's for the best, really, if they don't go any further - for both of them, in the end. But she's right; in the end, he'll be left with nothing, not even a memory of this, of what she's offering – of what they could be - but just a dream. An impossible dream. And he'll regret not telling her, never acting on his desires. And the years leading up to that point, he'll have to live with her, holding her hand, hugging her - then stop himself from pulling her too close, resist kissing her, before things go too far. And that _would _be very frustrating. But he doesn't think that that could actually happen anymore; he knows he's going to break - he is going to give in hopelessly, at some point. He _knows_ that. She knows that. So why not let it be today?

And so, they are thinking all of this as they are kissing, aware of how he has turned them round, how she is underneath him, how their bodies have fused together on the soft ground; among a crowd of hundreds, that are now depleting in number, leaving having seen the end of the light show. They are aware of her legs are up around his waist, and her hands are in his hair, and her fingers are scratching his scalp...

...And neither of them stop it, this time. Because it feels _perfect..._

After some time – he is not sure how long - he pulls back from their embrace briefly, smiling at her. He looks around them, and recognises that they must have been kissing for some time, because suddenly he's aware that they are very alone. Everyone has gone. Neither Rose nor the Doctor had noticed. They are the only couple left lying on that deep red grass on the planet Lumen, watching the night sky.

How does she do this, he wonders? How does she make him lose track of time?

He's the _Lord_ of Time and yet, with Rose...she helps him forget. The seconds go by and he forgets to count them. And when he is kissing her, time stands still for them, and yet continues on around them. He forgets all about the Reasons why he shouldn't be allowed this; be allowed _her. _He forgets that with every spin of the planet he should _feel_ it: because now all he feels is her. He forgets all about the Time War, and the guilt, and the death and the fire. And a new fire burns. He feels such a passionate love for the woman beneath him, and nothing on this world or any other will ever change that. And it doesn't scare him anymore.

His lips return to hers.

She loves this. Her kissing him. Him kissing her. But she can't keep doing it if he's gonna pretend it never happened later on. She keeps letting him take what he wants from her, then stop before it gets to where she wants it to go. She loves him, but being with him but not quite...it is breaking her heart. And she doesn't think she will be able to tell him that, because she doesn't want to leave him, and if he thinks he's hurting her, he might just push her away - take her back to her mum. But if he did that...that, _that _would break her heart. And she will never be able to get over it. Never ever.

Oh, but he _is_ still scared. Not scared of having her, not anymore, but scared of _not _having her, just like always. He feels like this is how it is supposed to be. Forever. But he can't have that. And he promised Jackie he'd always keep her safe. But he can't, can he? Because there is so much danger in the life they lead; yes, they've just been to Las Vegas, which was moderately safe, but before that, with the werewolf... He shudders. Anything could have happened to her. He puts her life on the line almost every day. And that scares him, because she doesn't seem to mind.

And he knows: he will do _anything _to keep her alive for as long as possible. He would cross the entire universe, and beyond, to save her. He would destroy worlds and burn up suns to keep her by his side. He's that sort of a man. Because he loves her. And love conquers all.

And now...

_...He is so wrapped up in his thoughts that this time, he is unaware of one of his hands caressing her thigh as her skirt has been hitched up a bit, revealing it to his cool touch and warm gaze. He is unaware of his other hand slipping the sleeve of her shirt down her shoulders, and how her hands pull him closer as he does so. And Rose, she is unaware of her fingers trailing down his shirt, untying his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, slowly, slowly, teasingly; because she isn't paying attention to what she's doing - she's still lost in her contemplation of how she shouldn't do this, and she doesn't realise that she is already doing it. It just comes so naturally..._

She knows that this can't last forever. Him and her, together, in the TARDIS. Someday she'll die, or he'll leave her, and they will be apart. But that doesn't stop her wanting this _now._ Every night she dreams of him...of him and her...the impossible dream.

He knows that this can't last forever. Her and him, hand-in-hand, seeing the stars. But he wants it to; so, so much. And he has her now, in this moment, and it's glorious. It's fantastic. It's _brilliant_. And here they are. Dreaming the impossible dream.

_...They are both unaware of him ghosting his fingers across her collarbone, sweeping down her neckline, gently easing her shirt off as he changes the direction of his questing hands to trail down her arms. She can feel it; the insane pleasure of it makes her breath quiver and her muscles tense beneath him, but she doesn't acknowledge it. She thinks she's imagining it. Oh, and they are oh-so-blissfully unaware of her pushing his shirt off his shoulders, her skin touching his, her fingers light and teasing against his chest, swooping lower, and lower and then he's pulling her vest top up and over her head and he is kissing her and kissing her lower and lower and lower and..._

She thinks perhaps their life is all about running, running from monsters, running from home, running from their own feelings. And perhaps that's cowardly. But then they run towards greater adventures, run towards the stars, run where even the bravest of men dare not go. And this is the time for them to stop running, just for a few moments; an oasis of peace in the dangerous chaos that is the life they lead and the life they love. For they can love this too, these quieter, calmer flashes of time; but perhaps this is the scariest adventure of them all.

All his long, long life he has never known another quite like Rose Tyler. Nor has he ever felt quite like this. He'd come close to loving before, of course, but for centuries he has trusted that he will always be alone, in the end. Especially now he is the last one of his kind left. So, when Rose came into his life, he had this new, nervous feeling deep inside him that he wouldn't be able to step away from her - ever. He sent her home once, and she came right back to him. And he would never ever be able to do that again. Whatever happened, she'd always come back to him, one way or another.

Because if he believed in one thing - just one thing in this entire, crazy, unfair universe - he believed in _her._ And that thought alone was enough to persuade himself that he could allow himself this. Just once in his long, long life. Because she was his Rose, and he could let himself love her. Because he will never love another.

_...They remain completely oblivious of her and him and them and where things are going. Because this is what is right. This is what's always been right. This is what was always meant to happen. And as they are lost in their own thoughts about how much they love one another, but how much they will never ever say, it happens, so naturally, without warnings or interruptions or protest or pulling away. And actions speak louder than words..._

They go along, righting wrongs, saving lives, reaching the stars that she once thought were unreachable. And they are fantastic. Always have been; always will be. As long as they are together, and even when they are on their own. But, as they both know from experience, _it's definitely better with two._

Inch by inch he falls deeper, and gets closer, and realises it's far, far too late, now, to stop himself loving her. She is his universe. And this is when he breaks the rules.

He finally stops dancing around the inevitable.

He breaks from his daydreaming to notice exactly how far things had progressed between them in these last few moments. His hands linger at her hips; his mouth is now connected to her bare stomach. Her hands are in his hair, and his bare chest is pressed against the denim of her skirt. Her right leg is secure around his waist, foot pressing into his back, and her left leg is intertwined between his.

And, he thinks: this is just as it should be.

"Rose," he speaks quietly, his breath ghosting over her skin as he pulls his lips away from her a fraction.

"Doctor..." she replies, stirring from her personal thoughts. And she quickly acknowledges that he is half way down her body, touching her, kissing her. She can't quite believe it, though she knows this was always going to happen, someday. She pulls him up towards her, strokes his chest slowly before resting her hands over each of his hearts, looking deep into his eyes, "...I love you," she finishes.

He answers her with a passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that neither of them has experienced ever before. The kind of kiss that promises her a forever they cannot have, but can only search for. The kind of kiss that tells her he _loves_ her, and that he will _never_ stop fighting fate to have her stay here with him, like this, for an eternity.

He gathers her up in his arms, and she grasps for their removed clothing and wraps her legs around his waist tightly as he stands, and then he is carrying her back down the hill, back to the TARDIS, back home. And this time, instead of just holding hands, they are kissing all the way...


	18. All The Rules Are Broken Now

**Chapter 18 – All the Rules Are Broken Now**

_He answers her with a passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that neither of them has experienced ever before. The kind of kiss that promises her forever. He gathers her up in his arms, and she grasps for their removed clothing and wraps her legs around his waist tightly as he stands, and then he is carrying her back down the hill, back to the TARDIS, back home. And this time, instead of just holding hands, they are kissing all the way..._

He tries to stay focused on where he is walking but it's quite difficult, really. Since he has Rose, in just her bra and a very short skirt, wrapped around him, her tongue doing all sorts of delicious things to his lips and jaw line and neck and ear and oh!...she really needs to stop doing that. Or else certain things may have to be resolved right out here, on the grass in the cool night air. He contemplates this for a second, and then decides against it. He wants this to be perfect. Because she is his Rose, and she deserves nothing less than that.

He rests her against the doors of the TARDIS supporting her with his knee while he tries to get to the pocket of his coat that she is grasping tightly in her left hand. But then, as he's fumbling around, she smiles, amused by his urgency, and gestures towards her chest. Briefly losing focus as he follows the path of her hand, he then notices something on her chest shine in the moonlight. He grins back at her, and takes her key from the chain around her neck instead.

They unlock the doors, bundling in, and he's kissing her again and it's lovely. And she can tell now, that this is going to happen in the TARDIS, and there will be no running away from it, and it won't be awkward, because it is _them, _him and her, the Doctor and Rose.

His lips move to her neck as his hands sweep across her back, unhooking the clasp of her bra and gently easing the straps down her shoulders. She puts her hands in his hair again, and tugs at it, and her tongue makes tantalising contact with the curve of his jaw; he swiftly pushes against her so that she is between the edge of the console and him. She tightens the grip of her legs around him again and he can barely think. That's never happened before. Not before Rose.

He moves them so that she is on the Captain's chair now, looking up at him hovering above her with shock and hope and lust and _love_ in her eyes. And oh, she truly is the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes upon. And he _loves_ her.

She pulls him back down to her and their tongues are clashing against each other once more, exploring each other's mouths; and they are rather thoroughly enjoying themselves, it has to be said. Then, she's pushing him up, so they are standing again, and she takes his hand and gently leads them down the corridor, sliding out of her skirt as she walks, laughing gently as it gets caught around her foot. She kicks it somewhere irrelevant, and looks over her shoulder at his bewildered expression, and suppresses a giggle. This is so surreal, and Rose is sure she must be dreaming.

She continues walking, making her way to her bedroom, when suddenly he stops behind her. She tugs his hand to motion for him to continue walking with her. But he stays still.

Oh _god, _she thinks. This isn't a dream, because in her dreams he always follows her, and everything's lovely. This is real. Because he is stopping things, _again, _before they have even begun.

She turns her back to him.

She thinks he's regretting this.

She thinks he is going to stop this.

She thinks he is going to tell her to put her clothes back on and then walk away from her.

She thinks he thinks it's all a mistake.

And she thinks she might cry.

But he doesn't do any of those things. And she doesn't cry.

Instead, she hears his footsteps close the distance between them, and he's standing right behind her, front of his body against the back of hers. She can feel his breath on her neck and she shivers and her heart is beating uncontrollably and after all that silly thinking and now _this..._she _can't _think anymore.

He brings his lips down to press a soft kiss on her right shoulder. His hand comes up between their bodies and slowly trails down her back. He kisses her again, this time just behind her ear. And then he whispers, so softly that it's like he is caressing the word...

"Rose..."

"Hhuhmm?" she barely says in return. Her brain seems to have decided to let her deal with this conversation on her own.

"You're going the wrong way."

"A..am I?" she manages to stutter.

"Yeah."

"Oh. Ok," she says, and it's very likely she could fall over in a minute.

So she turns around and grasps his shoulders to keep her knees from giving way...and then they are both very aware that she is mostly naked and he still has his trousers on.

That situation had to be rectified _immediately._

"Which way then, Designated Driver?" she says, with a new-found confidence that surprises them both, and she's smiling her teasing smile that he loves so much.

"Weeelll...follow me...." he says mysteriously.

"Always," she breathes quietly.

"And forever," he says, turning slightly to face her, winking.

Whoops. She didn't mean for him to hear that. Oh well. At least it was clear from his reply that he was thinking along the same wavelength. Her heart skips a beat.

He leads her down a different corridor, arm fitting around her waist snugly, and through the door to his room.

Once inside, Rose looks a bit baffled, so the Doctor kisses her frown off of her face and swivels her around, pushing her gently with his body so that they both land on his bed with a bounce. She giggles against his lips and he pulls back to eye her suspiciously. His expression concedes to more Rose-giggling, and his left eyebrow goes up. Oh, she loves it when he does that. She stops laughing and pulls his lips back to hers.

He shifts her onto the bed a bit more, hovering over her.

"You know, I've never actually used this bed before..." he murmurs, strangely coherent for their current situation, Rose feels. We can't have that.

So when she replies, she decides to give him a bit of a shock.

"Oh yeah? Well, it's certainly gonna see a show tonight. Let's christen it," she whispers, in a rather seductive manner, the Doctor thinks, and then she proceeds to undo his trousers, and the Doctor _can't_ think anymore.

He bites his lip and his eyes are wide and dark.

This is different, she thinks. She giggles.

He loves her laugh. He knows what she's thinking.

"Good different or bad different?" he says, smiling at her, and she's startled at his ability to read her that well. She knows he could, quite literally, read her mind if he wanted to, but right now he was just guessing. And he was right.

"Good different. Definitely..." she replies, sweeping her tongue across his lips. She then moves to kiss his neck again, and her hands...well, they travel on a very nice journey back down his torso...

"Ah. Now that...that...is erm...very...nice to erm...hear...um, Rose, you should really, _really _stop...ah...doing_ that_...that is far too..."

Rose laughs at him. Again.

"Wh...what?" he asks.

She laughs even harder.

"What? Rose, stop it. No...no not _that..._I meant stop laughing...the other thing,weeelll...you can keep doing that if you like. Please."

"Sorry, sorry...It's just..."she replies, still giggling a bit.

"What is it?" he whispers, tilting his head closer to hers again.

"Well...you know. This is just a very different sort of...adventure...to normal. And I never thought it would happen, not for real," she's stopped laughing now, and her voice quietens in volume to match his.

"For real?" he asks, confused.

"Yeah. As in...oh you know..."

"Huh?" he thinks he does know. He thinks he's had similar thoughts.

"As in...not in my _dreams. _Ok, there, I said it. Don't say a word..." she declares, embarrassed. He is surely gonna tease her for that, she thinks.

He smiles gently at her, amused by her self-conscious confession.

"Hmmm. So you've dreamt of us -"

"Shut up."

"Sorry," he says, smirking light-heartedly.

He bends his head and kisses her passionately, pressing all of his weight onto her and trailing a hand down her arm.

"Want to know a secret?" he asks, kissing her nose.

"All the time," she smiles at him.

"Well... I did too."

"Did what?" she asks innocently, though she knows. She knows. And she's very bemused and excited by the idea, actually. She didn't think he would ever think of them in that way.

He looks at her incredulously, and she giggles and nods her head. But she can't resist...

"Isn't that a bit...erm, what's the word? Oh yeah. Isn't that a bit un-timelord-y of you, Doctor?"

He chuckles at that.

"_Oh yes," _he replies, rather huskily, she notes.

"Thought so."

"Mmmm. I'm supposed to have better control than you lot," he explains, and she shoots him a look at his subtle insult to her species, "But then...well, you sort of changed that, didn't you? Being so...so..."

"Lickable?" she interrupts jokingly, and she thinks he'll laugh.

Instead, he looks deep into her eyes, and says softly,

"Exactly," and to prove his point, he swept his tongue over her lips, down her neck and into the hollow of her collarbone.

"Ahhh...oohhh," she replies in surprise at his tongue-movements, rather ineloquently, she knows.

"Exactly," he chuckles.

Rose flings him onto his back with one swift motion, much like she did days ago, on the TARDIS's console room floor.

And the Doctor is quick to appreciate that this time, she is not wearing her purple top or dungaree-skirt-thingy. So looking up at her now straddling him, he does indeed have a very interesting, and _extremely _pleasing view. And it's nothing short of heavenly.

He sits up to kiss her again, but she pushes him back down, and he looks somewhat bereft.

"Wait. I just wanna say something, Doctor. And it's very important."

He swallows, suddenly nervous.

"Yes, Rose?" he asks shakily.

"You're very lickable too - "

"Ah yes, well that goes without saying..." he interrupts.

"-Doctor! I wasn't finished..."

"Oh. Sorry. Please continue," he says, and chuckles, because this is really quite amusing, practically having a conversation with Rose's breasts. He long ago forgot that he was supposed to be a gentleman, and keep eye contact with her when she was speaking.

Seemingly reading his mind, Rose tilts his head back up to look at her face.

"Doctor..." she says warningly, though she has laughter in her eyes and he suspects she actually quite enjoys this.

"So sorry. I'll erm...I'll gaze into your eyes again. I just thought I'd give you a break from that, and look...elsewhere instead. You know, seeing as you can't seem to structure a coherent thought together when I'm looking into your eyes usually," he laughs as she blushes and raises her eyebrow at him at the same time, "Anyway. Carry on with what you were saying..."

"Oh. Yeah. Erm...where was I...?" and he's gazing into her eyes like she's one of those light shows on Lumen and...then she realises what he means. God, he's good. His eyes are just so...captivating that she can't even –

"Erm...Rose?" he interrupts her internal ramblings, with a smug smirk on his face.

"Right, yes," she forces herself to continue. Then she remembers that it was him who was staring at her breasts in the first place, so why is he making _her _feel embarrassed? And...she's sitting on him, so really, she has the upper hand here. She shifts her hips and moves around a bit on his lap, while trailing a finger down his chest seductively...and it's his turn to stumble over his words.

"Oh...ah...very funny...clever..ah...little...minx!" he exclaims, and pushes himself up to kiss her laughter away.

But she pushes him back down on the bed before he can.

"Ha. Now I have you right where I want you..." she says beaming down at him, her tongue between her teeth.

He wishes she wouldn't do that. It's so distracting.

"Now, what I was _going _to say, before I got _rudely interrupted _about fifteen times, was...something of the utmost importance."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yes," she says, her expression growing very serious and melancholy. The Doctor wonders what on Earth – or rather, at the TARDIS hadn't yet changed location, what on _Lumen – _could make her demeanour change so dramatically. Actually, he suspects she's trying not to laugh, rather than essentially being very serious. Oh god. What's she going to ask him now? He has a feeling it could be embarrassing.

"Well? What's wrong?"

"You're...well, you're an alien..."

"Yep!" he says, popping the 'p', then adding, "So are you."

"Hmmm. Quite. But....well, I don't know about you, but I generally don't go around...erm..._dancing..._with aliens...And well, Captain Jack said –"

"Ok, can I just say: it really worries me that you have brought up the wonderful Casanova of this universe _Captain Jack_ in the middle of us - "

"Doctor, relax. Calm that Captain envy of yours, I - "

"I do _not, _in any way, shape or form, nor have ever, or will ever, have _Captain _envy of Jack Harkness..."

"Whatever. Oh yeah, cos 'Time Lords don't get jealous, _Rose_,'" she says, imitating the Doctor's voice perfectly, "_Anyway_," she continues before he can butt in again, "We...well, we had this little...erm..._bet_, going..."

"Ah." The Doctor thinks he knows where this is going.

"Just a passing comment out of curiosity, really, you know; not 'cos we were like, discussing it in any great detail or anything..."

"Sure..."

"But...well, the thing is Doctor: I'm human. You're a Time Lord."

"Well done..." he comments encouragingly, subtly sarcastic.

"Doctor! You're making this so difficult. Ok. Basically, is there anything I need to know? Anything...different? Can we - "

The Doctor was growing incredibly impatient. He runs his hands across her back and sits up. He twirls a strand of her hand between her fingers, appearing to contemplate her question. Then, he pulls her head to his and kisses her firmly on the lips, and she lets him.

He pulls back a fraction.

"Why don't you just see for yourself?" he murmurs against her lips, and she smiles the widest smile she's ever smiled.

*******

Soon, his trousers are flung somewhere inconsequential, perhaps hanging over a lamp or the bedpost or a chair or something, and then his boxers and her knickers suffer the same fate. And, to be perfectly honest, neither of the people on the bed really cares that they won't be able to find their discarded clothing in the morning. In fact, they are quite ecstatic to be there, together, _completely _without said clothing.

And as they make love, right there, in the Doctor's never-been-used-before bed; in their moment of peace, their flash of suspended time...Rose feels like she's part of some extraordinary fairytale. She's sure that what they are doing is something that can only be done outside of time and space. It's beautifully brilliant.

He is dancing with Rose Tyler, and the universe isn't imploding. And it is magical.

She hopes for a happy ever after.

*******

Much, much later, he watches his beautiful Rose drift off into a satisfied slumber. She's exhausted. And so is he. They'd had quite a night.

He has to tell her.

"Rose Tyler," he whispers, when he is sure she is asleep in his arms, "You're worth breaking the rules for. I... I lo..." he kisses the top of her head, "Stay with me. Forever."

And she dreams sweet dreams that night, as the impossible is conquered, and she smiles in her sleep.

_***The End***_

**A/N: Thankyou so so so much to all who have reviewed on this story. Your comments have meant so much to me, and I can't believe the lovely response I've had for this fic. I feel very proud! Lol **** I hope you liked the end – sorry if it was a bit erm...dodgy. I've never written anything like that before, and this is Rose and the Doctor, so, you know, I'm a bit apprehensive about how it comes across. I wanted them to have this *ahem* **_**moment**_**, but it not go too far away from their actual characters. Therefore, I'm so imagining it's cannon lol. This definitely happened behind the scenes :P**

**Love to all doctor/rose shippers out there. The world is a better place with their love story continuing. So, share the love and the happiness. Cos that's the most important thing in the entire universe, for everyone. Especially the Doctor and his Miss Rose Marion Tyler x**


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